If, as I imagine, he is making for London in that car, there is even a chance of intercepting him in the suburbs.

I'll see to it." Left alone with Evelyn Forbes, Theydon suddenly grew tongue-tied.

This man who could invent all manner of glib conversation for the characters in his novels now cudgeled his brains vainly for something to say that would dwell in her memory when they parted.

And he knew why a cloud was thus effectually befogging his wits.

He had only seen Evelyn three times in as many days, had spoken to her but twice, yet was hopelessly and irrevocably in love with her.
He, who had so often and so thrillingly described the grand passion of a man's life, had now fallen a victim to it, only to feel how unutterably ridiculous and impossible was the wild longing that had sprung up in his heart.