You relate to Harry as inadequate husband, rather slow to come out with the whole truth. As the complexity of his character begins to show through the force of circumstances, you also begin to appreciate how Anna, the perfect, beautiful wife, could never overcome her wealthy background enough to make true love unconditional.
Harry begins to relax a little, to forgive himself this trespass- a blot, to be sure, but in the grand scheme truly a minor blot. He's still Harry, after all. Harry the Honest. Harry the Plodding. Harry the Slightly Dull and Predictable- but reliable. One doesn't change as suddenly, as drastically, as all that. He sighs and sets the newspaper down, his body sagging with relief at having passed his own reassessment so resoundingly, determined to find a way out of this mess, when Anna speaks up from the kitchen.