Gwendolen, indeed, had no feeling to spare in any effusiveness toward the creature who had brought her relief. The passionate need of contradiction to Grandcourt's estimate of Deronda, a need which had blunted her sensibility to everything else, was no sooner satisfied than she wanted to be gone. She began to be aware that she was out of place, and to dread Deronda's seeing her. And once in the carriage again, she had the vision of what awaited her at home. When she drew up before the door in Grosvenor Square, her husband was arriving with a cigar between his fingers. He threw it away and handed her out, accompanying her up-stairs. She turned into the drawing-room, lest he should follow her farther and give her no place to retreat to; then she sat down with a weary air, taking off her gloves, rubbing her hand over her forehead, and making his presence as much of a cipher as possible. But he sat, too, and not far from her--just in front, where to avoid looking at him must have the emphasis of effort.
"May I ask where you have been at this extraordinary hour?" said Grandcourt.

Gwendolen, indeed, had no feeling to spare for Mirah. The passionate need for confirmation of Deronda's goodness, which had over-ridden everything else, was no sooner satisfied than she wanted to be gone. She began to dread Deronda's seeing her.
And once in the carriage, she had the vision of what awaited her at home. When she drew up in Grosvenor Square, her husband was arriving with a cigar between his fingers. He threw it away and handed her out, accompanying her upstairs. She turned into the drawing-room and sat down wearily, taking off her gloves, rubbing her forehead, and ignoring his presence as much as possible. But he sat in front of her, where she could not avoid looking at him.
"May I ask where you have been at this extraordinary hour?" said Grandcourt.
