She had, furthermore, a curious look of current wisdom in her eyes, an air of saucy insolence which aroused Cowperwood's sense of mastery, his desire to dominate.

To the look of provocation and defiance which she flung him for the fraction of a second he returned a curiously leonine glare which went over her like a dash of cold water.
It was not a hard look, however, merely urgent and full of meaning.
She was the vagrom-minded wife of a prosperous lawyer who was absorbed in his business and in himself.

She pretended indifference for a moment after the first glance, but paused a little way off as if to examine some laces.

Cowperwood looked after her to catch a second fleeting, attracted look.

He was on his way to several engagements which he did not wish to break, but he took out a note-book, wrote on a slip of paper the name of a hotel, and underneath: "Parlor, second floor, Tuesday, 1 P.M." Passing by where she stood, he put it into her gloved hand, which was hanging by her side.