On two successive mornings he had been alone with Thyrza; one evening he had spent at a concert, for the mere sake of being where Thyrza was, and feeling emotions such as he knew she would feel.

'No playing at friendship with Gilbert's wife.' And he had himself held out his band to her, had asked her to address him familiarly, had talked of things which brought them into closer communion, had--yes--had bidden her keep their interviews a secret from Gilbert.

Had insanity begun?
A piece of folly; nothing else.

As he walked towards Westminster, he viewed the situation, or tried to view it, as it is put in the second paragraph of this chapter.

He had got into a very disagreeable position; he really must find some becoming way out of it; Thyrza was a silly girl to come a second time; of course the appointment for the following morning must not be kept.