She wished they would mind their own business.
"And you won't think about it, and let it trouble you, will you ?" he asked.
"Oh no," replied Miriam, without looking at him.
He was silent.

She thought him unstable.

He had no fixity of purpose, no anchor of righteousness that held him.
"Because," he continued, "a man gets across his bicycle--and goes to work--and does all sorts of things.

But a woman broods." "No, I shan't bother," said Miriam.

And she meant it.
It had gone rather chilly.