He was not thinking of the girl.

There was no sentimental reverie in his look.

Already his mind was engaged in scrutiny of the circumstances in which he was set.

He realised fully his situation.

The idealism which had been born with him had met its reward in a labour herculean at the least, and the infinite drudgery of the practical issues came in a terrible pressure of conviction to his mind.
The mind did not shrink from any thought of the dangers in which he would be placed, from any vision of the struggle he must have with intrigue, and treachery and vileness.