He asked no man's help nor advice, minded no man's scorn, sought no man's love.
During my experience of him I saw him moved only once by an overmastering emotion, and that was, of course, his love for Marie Ivanovna.

That, I believe, _did_ master him, but deep down, deep down, he kept his rebellions, his anxieties, his surmises; only as the light of a burning house is seen by men, pale and faint upon the sky many miles from the conflagration, did we catch signs of his trouble.
If I had not had those talks with Trenchard and read his diary I should have known nothing.

Even now I can offer no solution....
Meanwhile he showed fiercely and openly enough his love for Marie Ivanovna.

He behaved to her with the vulgarest ostentation, as a rich merchant behaves when he has snatched some priceless picture from a defeated rival.

As he laughed at us he seemed to say: "Now, I have really a thing of value here.