’ The girl bit her lip and backed a little, while her husband shifted to stand at her side. It would be useless to tell her to go back, even heartless; and yet he could not advise her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether her aunt was dead or alive. Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. A gaunt, powerful man: no feature of his face decided, and yet for all that it had the significance of a countenance hewn out of rock.
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