There was more that she might have said; more that she knew, or that she suspected; I clearly saw.

I could not give her pain by asking what it was, for I knew that she withheld it from me, to spare her father. It had long been going on to this, I was sensible: yes, I could not but feel, on the least reflection, that it had been going on to this for a long time. I remained silent.

‘His ascendancy over papa,’ said Agnes, ‘is very great. He professes humility and gratitude — with truth, perhaps: I hope so — but his position is really one of power, and I fear he makes a hard use of his power.’

I said he was a hound, which, at the moment, was a great satisfaction to me.

‘At the time I speak of, as the time when papa spoke to me,’