He peeped round the corner while we were talking, the hat in his hand.

He held it out to her, but she took no notice of him.

I gathered the incident was closed, and went my way, but turned a few steps further on, curious to witness the end.

Step by step he approached nearer, looking a little ashamed of himself; but still she wept, her face hidden in her arm.
He was not expecting it: to all seeming she stood there the personification of the grief that is not to be comforted, oblivious to all surroundings.

Incautiously he took another step.