She did not of course see it.

In fact she looked everywhere but toward it, raising her perfectly gloved fingers tentatively for his arm.
"I am tired of standing," she added.
He turned and indicated the sofa, toward which she immediately advanced.
As she sat down he noted vaguely that she was exquisitely dressed, certainly one of the best dressed women in the room.

Her costume was daring without being startling, being merely black and white largely, boldly contrasted.

He felt indefinitely proud of the dress.

Some instinct in the man's simple, strong mind told him that it was good for women to be beautiful, but his ignorance of the sex being profound he had no desire to analyze the beauty.