But he was watching the train with indifferent eyes; and the spectacle of his indifference struck her as something incongruous and strange.

She had been thinking of him with remorse as a man twisting like Hamlet in the coils of tragedy, and wearing like Hamlet the tragic mien.

Yet here he was on the platform of a railway station, waiting, like any commonplace traveller, with an uninterested patience for his train.

The aspect of Shere Ali diminished Violet Oliver's remorse.

She wondered for a moment why he was not travelling upon the same train as herself, for his destination must be northwards too.