She admired him for it; and not only for that; she admired him--she could not say exactly why, but she thought it was because he had such a beautiful, bumpy, intellectual forehead.

And as she sat beside him and shook to that vibrating passion of his, she felt as if the blue moon had risen again and was shining through the trees of the park; and she was happy, absolutely, indubitably happy and safe; for she felt that he was her friend and her protector and the defender of her cause.

It was for her that he raged and maddened and behaved himself altogether so unreasonably.
Now as it happened, Cautley did champion certain theories which Miss Cursiter, when she met them, denounced as physiologist's fads.

But it was not they, nor yet Miss Quincey, that accounted for his display of feeling.

He was angry because he wanted to come to a certain understanding with the Classical Mistress; to come to it at once; and the system kept him waiting.