So it was with Anthony.
It moved him, for instance, to see the supple strength of her fingers when she was scraping the charred bacon from the bottom of the pan, and he was particularly fascinated by the undulations of the small, round wrist.

He glanced down to his own hand, broad and bony in comparison.
It was his absorption in this criticism that served to keep him aloof from her while they ate, and the girl felt it like an arm pushing her away.

She had been very close to him not many hours before; now she was far away.

She could understand nothing but the pain of it.
As he finished his coffee he said, staring into a corner: "I don't know why I came back to you, Sally." "You didn't mean to come back when you started ?" "Of course not." She flushed, and her heart beat loudly to hear his weakness.

He was keeping nothing from her; he was thinking aloud; she felt that the bars between them were down again.
"In the first place I went because I had to be seen and known by name in some place far away from you.