When he returned to camp, subdued in manner, like a bad
boy after recess, he was, in fact, not one bit subdued beneath the
surface, but the more fractious for his outburst. Each day his
animal spirits surged higher; each day her sway of awe and respect
grew more precarious. She thought his increasing silence, his
really ridiculous formality of politeness, his stammering and red-
cheeked dread of intrusion meant a deepening of the sense of the
social gulf that rolled between them. She recalled their
conversation about his relatives. "Poor fellow!" thought she. "I
suppose it's quite impossible for people of my sort to realize
what a man of his birth and bringing up feels in circumstances
like these." Little did she dream, in her exaltation of self-
complacence and superiority, that the "poor fellow's" clumsy
formalities were the thin cover for a tempest of wild-man's wild
emotion.
Curiously, she "got on" his nerves before he on hers. It was
through her habit of rising late and taking hours to dress. Part
of his code of conduct--an interpolation of his own into the
Arkwright manual for a honeymooning gentleman--was that he ought
to wait until she was ready to breakfast, before breakfasting
himself.
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