Monsieur Morin was deeper than ever in love with her during these last few days: he was worked up into a state capable of any sacrifice, either of himself or others, so that he might obtain her at last.

He sat 'devouring her with his eyes' (to use Pierre's expression) whenever she could not see him; but, if she looked towards him, he looked to the ground--anywhere--away from her and almost stammered in his replies if she addressed any question to him.' "He had been, I should think, ashamed of his extreme agitation on the Boulevards, for Pierre thought that he absolutely shunned him for these few succeeding days.

He must have believed that he had driven the Norman (my poor Clement!) off the field, by banishing him from his inn; and thought that the intercourse between him and Virginie, which he had thus interrupted, was of so slight and transient a character as to be quenched by a little difficulty.
"But he appears to have felt that he had made but little way, and he awkwardly turned to Pierre for help--not yet confessing his love, though; he only tried to make friends again with the lad after their silent estrangement.

And Pierre for some time did not choose to perceive his cousin's advances.

He would reply to all the roundabout questions Morin put to him respecting household conversations when he was not present, or household occupations and tone of thought, without mentioning Virginie's name any more than his questioner did.