And they parted company. Mr. Thornton hurried to his warehouse, and, sternly forbidding his clerks to allow any one to interrupt him, he went his way to his own private room, and locked the door. Then he indulged himself in the torture of thinking it all over, and realising every detail. How could he have lulled himself into the unsuspicious calm in which her tearful image had mirrored itself not two hours before, till he had weakly pitied her and yearned towards her, and forgotten the savage, distrustful jealousy with which the sight of her--and that unknown to him--at such an hour--in such a place--had inspired him! How could one so pure have stooped from her decorous and noble manner of bearing! But was it decorous--was it? He hated himself for the idea that forced itself upon him, just for an instant--no more--and yet, while it was present, thrilled him with its old potency of attraction towards her image. And then this falsehood--how terrible must be some dread of shame to be revealed--for, after all, the provocation given by such a man as Leonards was, when excited by drinking, might, in all probability, be more than enough to justify any one who came forward to state the circumstances openly and without reserve! How creeping and deadly that fear which could bow down the truthful Margaret to falsehood! He could almost pity her. 
And they parted company. Mr. Thornton hurried to his warehouse, and, sternly forbidding his clerks to allow anyone to interrupt him, he went to his private room, and locked the door. Then he indulged himself in the torture of thinking it all over.
How could he have lulled himself into pity by her tearful image, and have forgotten the savage, distrustful jealousy with which the sight of her and another man - at such an hour - in such a place - had filled him! How could one so pure have stooped from her decorous and noble manner of bearing! But was it decorous?
He hated himself for the idea that forced itself upon him, just for an instant, and yet thrilled him with its old potency of attraction towards her image. And then this falsehood - how terrible her dread must be of some shame to be revealed. After all, the provocation given by such a man as Leonards might be more than enough to justify anyone stating the circumstances openly! How creeping and deadly that fear which could bow down the truthful Margaret to falsehood! He could almost pity her. 