There could be no question of his running away, no possibility even of his escaping by a headache.

But it may be doubted whether his dismay was not even more than hers.

She knew that she could teach herself to use no other than fitting words; but he was almost sure that he would break down if he attempted to speak to her.
She would be safe from blushing, but he would assuredly become as red as a turkey-cock's comb up to the roots of his hair.

Her blood would be under control, but his would be coursing hither and thither through his veins, so as to make him utterly unable to rule himself.
Nevertheless, he also plucked up his courage and descended, reaching the drawing-room before Madame Goesler had entered it.

Chiltern was going on about Trumpeton Wood to Lord Baldock, and was renewing his fury against all the Pallisers, while Adelaide stood by and laughed.
Gerard Maule was lounging on a chair, wondering that any man could expend such energy on such a subject.