“‘It’s all right, Rawdon; I don’t want anything; I couldn’t sleep, that’s all; I’m going away now.’ “But he continued to stare at her as though she had been an apparition, muttering incomprehensibly, and passing his hand with a wild gesture over his hair. “‘What’s the matter, Rawdon?’ she said, genuinely puzzled. “At that he cried out,— “‘Oh, go away, leave me alone, for God’s sake leave me alone!’ and he began to sob hysterically, hiding his face in his sheets. “Afraid that he would wake the children, she backed hastily out, shutting the door, and flying downstairs to her own room. “He did not come to breakfast, but at midday he appeared, white and hollow-eyed, and climbed to his room, where he spent an hour screwing a bolt on to the inside of his door. When he came down again, he tried to slip furtively out of the house, but she stopped him in the passage. “‘Look here, Rawdon,’ she said, taking him by the shoulders, ‘what’s the matter with you?’ “He shrank miserably under her touch. “‘There’s nothing the matter,’ he mumbled. “Then he spoke in a tone she had never heard since the days before their marriage, a cringing, whining tone. “‘Let me be, Ruth, my pretty little Ruth; I’m up to no wrong, I promise you. Be kind to your poor Rawdon, darling,’ and he tried to kiss her. “But instantly with his servility she regained her disdain of him. She pushed him roughly from her. “‘Get out then; don’t bother me.’ “He went, swiftly, thankfully. “The furtiveness which she had already noticed clung to him; he slunk about like a Jew, watching her covertly, answering her, when she spoke, in his low, propitiatory voice. She had lost all fear of him now. She ordered him about in a peremptory way, and he obeyed her, sulkily, surlily, when she was not looking, but with obsequious alacrity when her eyes were on him. His chief desire seemed to be to get out of her sight, out of her company. He moved noiselessly about the house, seeking to conceal his presence; ‘pussy-footed,’ was the word she used. Their relations were entirely reversed. With the acquiescent philosophy of the poor, she had almost ceased to wonder at the new state of affairs thus mysteriously come about. She dated it from the day he had first taken to the attic, realising also that a great leap forward had been made from the hour of her midnight visit to his bedroom. He was an altered being. From time to time he tried to defy her, to reassert himself, but she held firm, and he slid back again to his cowed manner. She became aware that he was afraid of her, though the knowledge neither surprised nor startled her over-much. She merely accepted it into her scheme of life. She was also perfectly prepared that one day he should break out, beat her, and reassume his authority as master of the house and of her person.