In fact, they rather repelled her.

But she had found Dorn's manner striking, confusing, and unforgettable.

And why that should be so interested her intelligence.
It was confusing to discover that she could not lay it to the sympathy she had felt for an American boy in a difficult position, because she had often thought of him long before she had any idea who he was or where he lived.
In the very first place, he had been unforgettable for two reasons--because he had been so struck at sight of her that he had gazed unconsciously, with a glow on his face and a radiance in his eye, as of a young poet spellbound at an inspiration; and because he seemed the physical type of young man she had idealized--a strong, lithe-limbed, blond giant, with a handsome, frank face, clear-cut and smooth, ruddy-cheeked and blue-eyed.
Only after meeting him out there in the desert of wheat had she felt sympathy for him.

And now with intelligence and a woman's intuition, barring the old, insidious, dreamy mood, Lenore went over in retrospect all she could remember of that meeting.

And the truth made her sharply catch her breath.