Men who decide such small matters as these for themselves, after mature and somewhat slow consideration, have a way of also deciding the large issues of life without pausing to consider either expediency or the experience of their neighbours.
During the last forty-eight hours Guy Oscard had made the decision that life without Millicent Chyne would not be worth having, and in the hush of the great house he was pondering over this new feature in his existence.

Like all deliberate men, he was placidly sanguine.

Something in the life of savage sport that he had led had no doubt taught him to rely upon his own nerve and capacity more than do most men.

It is the indoor atmosphere that contains the germ of pessimism.
His thoughts cannot have been disturbing, for presently his eyes closed and he appeared to be slumbering.

If it was sleep, it was the light unconsciousness of the traveller; for a sound so small, that waking ears could scarce have heard it, caused him to lift his lashes cautiously.