that he did. She did not say to herself that a day of vengeance was
coming, she did not think of anything so melodramatic, she expected
nothing of her future at all--but the marks were there.

The situation was developed by Falk's return from Oxford. When he was away
her love for him seemed to her simply all in the world that she possessed.
He wrote to her very seldom, but she made her Sunday letters to him the
centre of her week, and wrote as though they were a passionately devoted
mother and son. She allowed herself this little gentle deception--it was
her only one.

But when he returned and was in the house it was more difficult to cheat
herself. She saw at once that he had something on his mind, that he was
engaged in some pursuit that he kept from every one. She discovered, too,
that she was the one of whom he was afraid, and rightly so, the Archdeacon
being incapable of discovering any one's pursuits so long as he was
engaged on one of his own. Falk's fear of her perception brought about a
new situation between them. He was not now oblivious of her presence as he
had been. He tried to discover whether she knew anything. She found him
often watching her, half in fear and half in defiance.

The thought that he might be engaged now upon some plan of his own in
which she might share excited her and gave her something new to live for.
She did not care what his plan might be; however dangerous, however
wicked, she would assist him. Her moral sense had never been very deeply
developed in her. Her whole character was based on her relations with
individuals; for any one she loved she would commit murder, theft or
blasphemy. She had never had any one to love except Falk.

She despised the Archdeacon the more because he now perceived nothing.