It was his heart. There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames. He had found her in a communicative mood, and he used the accumulated skill of years in turning that to account. Her depression since the “accident” had possessed her, she no longer cared how she looked as her beauty helped her not. “I am sorry for the way I acted, Lucy. The lighting-up pierced the obscurity of the box, and Ramage stopped his urgent flow of words abruptly and sat back. ‘But there is something still I do not understand. Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation. She might even forgive him.
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