As upon that occasion at the hotel when she had sat in the window, the world once more arranged itself beneath her gaze very vividly and in its true proportions.

She glanced curiously at Terence from time to time, observing his grey coat and his purple tie; observing the man with whom she was to spend the rest of her life.
After one of these glances she murmured, "Yes, I'm in love.

There's no doubt; I'm in love with you." Nevertheless, they remained uncomfortably apart; drawn so close together, as she spoke, that there seemed no division between them, and the next moment separate and far away again.

Feeling this painfully, she exclaimed, "It will be a fight." But as she looked at him she perceived from the shape of his eyes, the lines about his mouth, and other peculiarities that he pleased her, and she added: "Where I want to fight, you have compassion.

You're finer than I am; you're much finer." He returned her glance and smiled, perceiving, much as she had done, the very small individual things about her which made her delightful to him.