There was something detached, hard, and elemental about his kisses then, as if he were only conscious of his own will, not in the least of her and her wanting him.
Later in the day he went out sketching.
"You," he said to her, "go with your mother to Sutton.

I am so dull." She stood and looked at him.

He knew she wanted to come with him, but he preferred to be alone.

She made him feel imprisoned when she was there, as if he could not get a free deep breath, as if there were something on top of him.

She felt his desire to be free of her.
In the evening he came back to her.