Ida sank gracefully into a chair opposite him.

She was wondering how she could easily lead up to the subject in her mind.

There was much diplomacy, on a very small and selfish scale, about Ida.

She realized the expediency of starting from apparently a long distance, to establish her sequences in order to maintain the appearance of unpremeditativeness.
"Isn't it a little too warm here, dear ?" said she, presently, in the voice which alone she could not control.

Whenever she had an entirely self-centred object in mind, an object which might possibly meet with opposition, as now, her voice rang harsh and lost its singing quality.
Harry did not seem to notice it.