Their heads bent forward listening to the medley of voices that hummed unintelligibly in their ears, and their eyes roamed from one face to another, or through the clustering of heads to the other crowd beyond.
"Told you they'd be funked by all this ceremony," said Traill.
"They're beginning to wish it was over, I should think.

Hang it, why don't they begin?
They'll get so cold it'll be like beating frozen meat." Sally looked at him in amazement.

All the hardness, all the cruelty, she saw then.

But it did not succeed in turning her from him.

She stood wondering at her own passive consent, yet could not bring herself to risk his offence by declaring that she would not stay.
Of his selfishness, she saw nothing.