In spite of will and reason, his conscience hurt him.

Theory was beautiful, but it was often shivered by practice.

His sympathies were strongly with the old colonel who had cursed him so violently and the grim old maid who had given them only harsh words.
Besides, he had pleasant memories of Victor Woodville, and these were his uncle and cousin.
He sat for a long time at the window.

The house was absolutely quiet, and he was sure that everybody was asleep.

There could be no doubt about Warner, because he slumbered audibly.