And each moment he waited he was readjusting himself.

He was half glad, in the end, that the door did not open.

He believed Miss Standish was inside, and she would undoubtedly accept the reason for his coming without an apology in words.
He went to his cabin, and his mind became increasingly persistent in its disapproval of the wrong viewpoint she had taken of him.

He was not comfortable, no matter how he looked at the thing.

For her clear eyes, her smoothly glorious hair, and the pride and courage with which she had faced him remained with him overpoweringly.