How people would admire her! How young she would look! Why couldn't he find some fault with her ?--imagine her cold, priggish, dull, too cautious.

But he could only think of her as lovely, as beyond expression attractive, drawing him like a magnet, as marvellously kind, gentle, graceful, and clever.

He was obliged to use the stupid word clever, as there was no other.

He suddenly remembered her teeth when she smiled, and a certain slight wave in her thick hair that was a natural one.

It is really barely decent to write about poor Aylmer as he is alone, suffering, thinking himself unwatched.