She felt an overpowering curiosity as to the way in which this event had affected the strange man.

Reports were no satisfaction to her; she desired to see him and hear him speak.
The footsteps at last! She trembled, went hot and cold, had a parched throat.

Mallard entered, and she did not offer him her hand; perhaps he might reject it.

In consequence there was an absurdly formal bow on both sides.
"Please sit down, Mr.Mallard." She saw that he was looking at the "St.Cecilia," but with what countenance her eyes could not determine.

To her astonishment, he spoke of the picture, and in an unembarrassed tone.
"An odd thing that this should be in your room." "Yes.