He did not foresee serious consequences of any sort, and yet he rather hesitated to begin.
Carrie was sitting by the window when he came in, rocking and looking out.

"Well," she said innocently, weary of her own mental discussion and wondering at his haste and ill-concealed excitement, "what makes you hurry so ?" Drouet hesitated, now that he was in her presence, uncertain as to what course to pursue.

He was no diplomat.

He could neither read nor see.
"When did you get home ?" he asked foolishly.
"Oh, an hour or so ago.

What makes you ask that ?" "You weren't here," he said, "when I came back this morning, and I thought you had gone out." "So I did," said Carrie simply.