Her appearance had disorganized his nerves, that was all.

Peering into his watch he found that he had only half an hour before dinner.

And it may be added that he dressed with singular care.
So did Fitzgerald, for that matter.
It took Cathewe just as long, but he did not make two or three selections of this or that before finding what he wanted.

He was engrossed most of the time in the sober contemplation of the rubber flooring or the running sea outside the port-hole.
And this night Hildegarde von Mitter was meditating on the last throw for her hopes.

She determined to cast once more the full sun of her beauty into the face of the man she loved; and if she failed to win, the fault would not be hers.