Really the increase of luxury--! What an awfully jolly lot of books--have you read them all?
Where did you learn so much about bindings ?" He continued to talk; he took things up and put them down; Nanda sat in her place, where her stillness, fixed and colourless, contrasted with his rather flushed freedom, and appeared only to wait, half in surprise, half in surrender, for the flow of his suggestiveness to run its course, so that, having herself provoked the occasion, she might do a little more to meet it.

It was by no means, however, that his presence in any degree ceased to prevail; for there were minutes during which her face, the only thing in her that moved, turning with his turns and following his glances, actually had a look inconsistent with anything but submission to almost any accident.

It might have expressed a desire for his talk to last and last, an acceptance of any treatment of the hour or any version, or want of version, of her act that would best suit his ease, even in fact a resigned prevision of the occurrence of something that would leave her, quenched and blank, with the appearance of having made him come simply that she might look at him.

She might indeed well have been aware of an inability to look at him little enough to make it flagrant that she had appealed to him for something quite different.
Keeping the situation meanwhile thus in his hands he recognised over the chimney a new alteration.

"There used to be a big print--wasn't there?
a thing of the fifties--we had lots of them at home; some place or other 'in the olden time.' And now there's that lovely French glass.