Certainly I will come, and gladly." Irene nodded, smiled approval, and moved past him.
In his room he walked hither and thither aimlessly, still holding his hat and stick.

A throbbing of the heart, a quickening of the senses, seemed to give him a new consciousness of life.

His mood of five minutes ago had completely vanished.

He remembered his dreary ramble about the lanes as if it had taken place last week.

Miss Derwent was still speaking to him; his mind echoed again and again every word she had said, perfectly reproducing her voice, her intonation; he saw her bright, beautiful face, its changing lights, its infinite subtleties of expression.