A wave of feeling passed over him. His wife was beautiful, a creature of
various charms, a centre of attraction. Yet he had never really loved
her--so many sordid elements had entered into the thought of marriage
with her, lowering the character of his affection. With a perversity
which only such men know, such heart as he had turned to the unknown
Quaker girl who had rebuked him, scathed him, laid bare his soul before
himself, as no one ever had done. To Eglington it was a relief that there
was one human being--he thought there was only one--who read him through
and through; and that knowledge was in itself as powerful an influence as
was the secret between David and Hylda. It was a kind of confessional,
comforting to a nature not self-contained. Now he restrained his cynical
intention to deal David a side-thrust, and quietly said:
"We shall meet at Hamley, shall we not? Let us talk there, and not at the
Foreign Office. You would care to go to Egypt, Hylda?"
She forced a smile. "Let us talk it over at Hamley." With a smile to
David she turned away to some friends.
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