He had asked and obtained leave to write to Maud Enderby; what on earth could he write about?
How could he address her?
He had promised to go and see Ida Starr, on a most impracticable footing.

Was it not almost certain that, before the day came round, her caprice would have vanished, and his reception would prove anything but a flattering one?
The feelings which both girls had at the time excited in him seemed artificial; in his present mood he in vain tried to resuscitate his interest either in the one or the other.

It was as though he had over-exerted his emotional powers, and they lay exhausted.

Weariness was the only reality of which he was conscious.

He must turn his mind to other things.