She rose from her bed and went to the window, and knelt down by it, pressing her face and the white bib of her apron close to the glass.  Instantly he saw her, and his face was filled with worship and happiness as with light.  At last she knew that she was loved, that the things he said when they met on the marshes were not said as they had been when she was a child, and that there had lately been solemnity throned in his eyes’ levity.  He made no motion for her to come down, nor when Tom turned his head again did he throw any furtive look at the window.  It was enough for him to have seen her; and soon he went away with bent head followed by his forgotten dogs.

Well, now this girl should sleep here, and the place should be revisited by a love as sacred as that, and one which would not commit sacrilege upon itself.  She gave a soft laugh, and in a haze of satisfaction that prevented her seeing that Ellen was beginning to tell her how much she liked the furniture she went out and passed to her own room.  For a moment she stood at the side windows, looking out on the show of sky and sea and green islands that lay sealed in the embankments from the grey flood which was now running across the silver plain and trying at them treacherously through the creeks that lay loverlike beside them.  Then she turned approvingly to the litter which betokened that this was a bedroom visited by insomnia more often than by sleep:  the half-dozen boxes of different sorts of cigarettes, the plate of apples and figs, the pile of books, the portfolio of prints.  It had been dreadful, that night at the hotel, with nothing to read.  She was very glad to come home.

It would not have seemed credible to Ellen that anyone should feel like this about this house.  The things in her room were very pretty, but it was spoiled for her by that large window, not because she was afraid that anyone would look in, but because Marion had told her that someone had once looked out.  Since that person had been kin to this woman who was dark with unspent energy, she figured him as being not quite extinguishable by death and therefore still a tenant of the apartment.  The jealousy of one of his stock would probably have more dynamic power than her most exalted passions, so she would not be able to evict him.  She thought these things quite passionately and desperately while at the same time she was placidly brushing her hair and thinking how nice everything was here.  Her mind continued to perform this duet of emotions when they went downstairs and had lunch.  It was very pretty, this white room with the few etchings set sparsely on the gleaming panels, each with a fair field of space for its black-and-white assertion; the deep, bright blue carpet, soft as sleep, on the mirror-shining parquet; the long low bookcases with their glass doors; the few perfect flowers, with their reflection floating on polished walnut surfaces as if drowned in sherry.