Unhappy miasmas floated hither and thither in it, and poisoned him.

When with Stephen he hardly recognized himself: he did not belong to himself.

Sarcasm, contradiction, opposing ideas, took possession of and ruled him by the forces of antipathy, just as others ruled him by the forces of love and attraction.
The days that had been full of peaceful happiness were troubled in all their hours; and yet the sources of trouble were so vague, so blended with what he had called unto himself, that he could not give vent to his unrest and disappointment.

His life had had a jar; nothing ran smoothly; and he was almost glad when Julius announced the near termination of his visit.

He had begun to feel as if Julius were inimical to him; not consciously so, but in that occult way which makes certain foods and drinks, certain winds and weathers, inimical to certain personalities.
His presence seemed to have blighted his happiness, as the north wind blighted his myrtles.