I was away, I said, only for a little." They walked back, he told me, in perfect silence.

He was more unhappy than ever.

He was more unhappy because he saw quite clearly that he did not understand her at all; he felt farther away from her than ever and loved her more devotedly than ever: a desperate state of things.
If he had taken that sentence of hers--"I think it's too exciting--now--here--for me to stop and think," he would, I fancy, have found the clue to her, but he would not believe that she was so simple as that.

In the two days that followed, days of the greatest discomfort, disappointment and disorder, his mind never left her for a moment.

His diary for these four days is very short and unromantic.
"_June 23rd._ In X----.