He understood quite well that some strange thing had happened.

It seemed to him during those next few minutes that everything which had passed that night was a dream, that this vivid picture of a life more intense, making larger demands upon the senses than anything he had yet experienced, was a mirage, a thing which would live only in his memory, a life in which he could never take any part.

He had blundered; he had come into a new world and he had blundered.

A sense of guilt was upon him.

He had a sudden wild desire to cry out that it was Elizabeth whom he had kissed.