Tavernake stood and looked after it.

She did not even glance round.

Except for that little gesture of cold surprise, she had ignored him.

Tavernake, scarcely knowing what he did, turned slowly towards the Strand.
He was face to face now with a crisis before which he seemed powerless.
Men were there in the world to be bullied, cajoled, or swept out of the way.

What did one do with a woman who was kind one moment and insolent the next, who raised her eyebrows and passed on when he wanted her, when he was there longing for her?
Those old solid dreams of his--wealth, power, his name on great prospectuses, a position in the world--these things now appeared like the day fancies of a child.