Here was I, remembering in spite of myself every word he had said, hearing again the sound of his voice and seeing the look in his eyes as he said it.

There was he, going to the woman for whose sake he had been willing to break with me.
But was he going to her?
I asked myself.

If not, when they had chaffed him he might easily have mentioned what his engagement really was, knowing, as he must have known, exactly how he made me suffer.
Still--why had he looked so miserable, if he didn't care what I thought, and was really ready to throw me over at a call from her?
The whole thing began to appear more complicated, more mysterious than I had felt it to be at first, when I was smarting with my disappointment in Ivor, and tingling all over with the humiliation he seemed to have put upon me.
"Oh, to know, to _know_, what he's doing at this minute!" I whispered, half aloud, because it was comforting in my loneliness to hear the sound of my own voice.

"To _know_ whether I'm doing him the most awful injustice--or not!" Just then, at the door between my room and Lisa's, next to mine, came a tapping, and instantly after the handle was tried.

But I had turned the key, thinking that perhaps this very thing might happen--that Lisa might wish to come, and not wait till I'd given her permission.