That suggestion about him of something primitive, of something not yet altogether tamed.

She felt again that slight thrill of fear that so strangely excited her.

A mist seemed to be obscuring all things.

He seemed to be coming towards her.
Only by keeping her eyes fixed on his moveless hands, still resting on the table, could she convince herself that his arms were not closing about her, that she was not being drawn nearer and nearer to him, powerless to resist.
Suddenly, out of the mist, she heard voices.

The waiter was standing beside him with the bill.