She remembered Deronda's words: they were continually recurring in her thought,
"Turn your fear into a safeguard. Keep your dread fixed on the idea of increasing your remorse. * * * Take your fear as a safeguard. It is like quickness of hearing. It may make consequences passionately present to you."
And so it was. In Gwendolen's consciousness temptation and dread met and stared like two pale phantoms, each seeing itself in the other--each obstructed by its own image; and all the while her fuller self beheld the apparitions and sobbed for deliverance from them.
Inarticulate prayers, no more definite than a cry, often swept out from her into the vast silence, unbroken except by her husband's breathing or the plash of the wave or the creaking of the masts; but if ever she thought of definite help, it took the form of Deronda's presence and words, of the sympathy he might have for her, of the direction he might give her. It was sometimes after a white-lipped fierce-eyed temptation with murdering fingers had made its demon-visit that these best moments of inward crying and clinging for rescue would come to her, and she would lie with wide-open eyes in which the rising tears seemed a blessing, and the thought, "I will not mind if I can keep from getting wicked," seemed an answer to the indefinite prayer.

She remembered Deronda's words: they were continually recurring in her thought-
"Turn your fear into a safeguard. Keep your dread fixed on the idea of increasing your remorse. Take your fear as a safeguard, like quickness of hearing, that will warn you of consequences."
And so it was. In Gwendolen's consciousness temptation and dread met and stared like two pale phantoms, while her fuller self beheld the apparitions and sobbed for deliverance from them.
Inarticulate prayers often swept out from her into the vast silence, unbroken except by her husband's breathing or the plash of the wave; but if ever she thought of help, it took the form of Deronda's presence and words, of his sympathy and direction. It was sometimes after a white-lipped temptation with murdering fingers had made its demon-visit that these best moments of inward crying for rescue would come to her, and she would lie with wide-open eyes in which the rising tears seemed a blessing, and the thought, "I will not mind if I can keep from getting wicked," seemed an answer to her prayer.
