 He felt the words and the manner to
be ridiculous, but could not restrain himself. Every moment increased his
uneasiness; the hat weighed in his hands like a lump of lead, and he was
convinced that he had never looked so clownish. Did her smile signify criticism
of his attitude?
    With a decision which came he knew not how, he let his hat drop to the floor
and pushed it aside. There, that was better; he felt less of a bumpkin.
    Sidwell glanced at the glossy grotesque, but instantly averted her eyes, and
asked rather more gravely:
    »Have you been in Exeter all the time?«
    »Yes.«
    »But you didn't spend your Christmas alone, I hope?«
    »Oh, I had my books.«
    Was there not a touch of natural pathos in this? He hoped so; then mocked at
himself for calculating such effects.
    »I think you don't care much for ordinary social pleasures, Mr. Peak?«
    He smiled bitterly.
    »I have never known much of them, - and you remember that I look forward to
a life in which they will have little part. Such a life,« he continued, after a
pause, »seems to you unendurably dull? I noticed that, when I spoke of it
before.«
    »You misunderstood me.« She said it so undecidedly that he gazed at her with
puzzled look. Her eyes fell.
    »But you like society?«
    »If you use the word in its narrowest meaning,« she answered, »then I not
only dislike society, but despise it.«
    She had raised her eyebrows, and was looking coldly at him. Did she mean to
rebuke him for the tone he had adopted? Indeed, he seemed to himself
presumptuous. But if they were still on terms such as these, was it not better
to know it, even at the cost of humiliation? One moment he believed that he
could read Sidwell's thoughts, and that they were wholly favourable to him; at
another he felt absolutely ignorant of all that was passing in her, and disposed
to interpret her face as that of a conventional woman who had never regarded him
as on her own social plane. These uncertainties, these frequent reversions to a
state of mind which at other times he seemed to have long outgrown, were a
singular feature of his relations with Sidwell. Could such experiences consist
with genuine love? Never had he felt more willing to answer the question with a
negative. He felt that he was come here to act a part
