She was very pale, her blue eyes dim and lifeless, with the lids heavy and red; she was in a dressing gown, her beautiful hair dishevelled, wound loosely into a knot at the back of her head. She had not half the beauty of her old self.... George, to affirm the superiority of virtue over vice, kept his hat on.
She looked at him with frightened eyes, then her lips quivered, and turning away her head she fell on a chair and burst into tears. George looked at her sternly. His indignation was greater than ever now that he saw her. His old jealousy made him exult at the change in her.
'She's got nothing much to boast about now,' he said to himself, noting how ill she looked.
'Oh, George!' ... she began, sobbing; but he interrupted her.
'I've come from father,' he said, 'and we don't want to have anything more to do with you, and you're not to write.'
'Oh!' She looked at him now with her eyes suddenly quite dry. They seemed to burn her in their sockets. 'Did he send you here to tell me that?'
'Yes; and you're not to come down.'
She put her hand to her forehead, looking vacantly before her.
'But what am I to do? I haven't got any money; I've pawned everything.'
George looked at her silently; but he was horribly curious.