He nodded assent.
"Yes!" Mills' thoughts were still dwelling in the past.

"And when saying good-bye she could put in an instant an immense distance between herself and you.

A slight stiffening of that perfect figure, a change of the physiognomy: it was like being dismissed by a person born in the purple.

Even if she did offer you her hand--as she did to me--it was as if across a broad river.

Trick of manner or a bit of truth peeping out?
Perhaps she's really one of those inaccessible beings.