Something in the dress, in her bearing and manner of approach, gave
her the assured charm of womanhood for the unfinished loveliness of
youth.
She introduced him to her friend Miss Palliser, whose green eyes
smiled in recognition. He bowed with the stiffness of a back
unaccustomed to that form of salutation. He hardly knew what happened
after that, till he found himself backing, nervously, ridiculously
backing into a lonely seat in the middle of the room.
The three were now grouped in a neat geometrical figure, Mr. Rickman,
on the chair of his choice, forming the apex of a prolonged triangle,
having the hearthrug for its base. He was aware that Miss Harden and
Miss Palliser were saying something; but he had no idea of what they
said. He sat there wondering whether he ought to be seated at all,
whether he ought not rather to be hovering about that little table,
ready to wait upon Miss Palliser. He was still wondering when Miss
Palliser got up with the evident intention of waiting upon him.
That, he knew, was all wrong; it was not to be permitted for a moment.
Inspired by a strange, unnatural courage, he advanced and took his
coffee from her hand, retreating with it to his remote and solitary
position.
He sat silent, moodily looking at his coffee, stirring it from time to
time and wondering whether he would ever be brave enough to drink it.
He waited for an opportunity of dispatching it unperceived.
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