When he opened his eyes a muddy twilight
had begun to show at the window; the sounds of a clapping door
within the house, which had probably awakened him, made him aware
that the servant was already up.
He drew up the blind. There seemed to be a frost, for the
moisture of last night had all disappeared, and the yard upon
which the window looked was unusually clean. With a glance at the
black grate he extinguished his lamp, and went out into the
passage. A few minutes' groping for his overcoat and hat, and he
left the house.
His purpose was to warm himself with a vigorous walk, and at the
same time to shake off if possible, the nightmare of his rage and
hopelessness. He had no distinct feeling with regard to his
behaviour of the past evening; he neither justified nor condemned
himself; he did not ask himself whether Marian would to-day leave
her home, or if her mother would take him at his word and also
depart. These seemed to be details which his brain was too weary
to consider. But he wished to be away from the wretchedness of
his house, and to let things go as they would whilst he was
absent.
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