What a timid little thing she was to be sure! He should have made it his business to draw her out, by being kind and encouraging.

Instead of which he had acted towards her, he felt convinced, like an ill-mannered boor.
He did not know how it was, but he couldn't detach his thoughts from Polly this evening: to their accompaniment he paced up and down.

All of a sudden he stood still, and gave a short, hearty laugh.

He had just seen, in a kind of phantom picture, the feet of the sisters Beamish as they sat on the verandah edge: both young women wore flat sandal-shoes.
And so that neatest of neat ankles had been little Polly's property! For his life he loved a well-turned ankle in a woman.
A minute later he sat down at the table again.

An idea had occurred to him: he would write Polly a letter--a letter that called for acknowledgment--and form an opinion of the girl from her reply.