She moves a little away from him, but otherwise shows no emotion whatever.

"The more so, in that it must be so difficult for you to love a person in fourteen days! Ah! that is kind, indeed." A curious light comes into Sir Hastings' eyes.

This little Australian girl, is she _laughing_ at him?
But the fact is that Perpetua is hardly thinking of him at all, or merely as a shadow to her thoughts.

Who _is_ he like?
that is the burden of her inward song.

At this moment she knows.