A curious, almost pathetic wistfulness crept into her heart.

If only he would lean towards her at that moment, if she could see once more the light in his eyes that had shone there during the days of their courtship! If only he could remember that it was still his part to play the lover! If he could be a little less grave, a little less hopelessly correct and fair! Despite her efforts to disbelieve, there was something convincing about his words.

At any moment during that brief space of time, a single tremulous word, even a warm clasp of the hand, would have brought her into his arms.

But so much of inspiration was denied him.

He sat waiting for her decision with an eagerness of which he gave no sign.
Nevertheless, the fates were fighting for him.