We spent last evening with them, and I implored to be let off to-day." Mallard propped himself idly, and from under the shadow of his hat often looked at her.

He had begun to wonder at the unreserved joy with which she greeted his joining the party.

Of course she could have no slightest suspicion of what was in his mind; one moment's thought of him in such a light must have altered her behaviour immediately.
Altered in what way?
That he in vain tried to imagine; his knowledge of her did not go far enough.

But he could not be wrong in attributing unconsciousness to her.

Moreover, with the inconsistency of a man in his plight, he resented it.