"Forgive me, but you started by being morbid, quoting at me in fact, and you look so distractingly lovely when you are shocked."
"To tell a woman she is lovely is to criticise her openly to her face. Please do not make such a careful perusal of my expression."
"Unfortunately I am endowed with the critical faculty."
The very intonation of Quinton's voice is a caress.
His eyes seem to reveal, as they gaze on her, their power of insight and analysis. Their look is appreciation, their sympathy with her every utterance boundless.
To him she is not only a character study, but a woman to love, to worship, for a day, an hour.
To her he is an object of fascination, an accomplished man of the world, one who can make himself utterly irresistible by reason of his tenderness, chivalry, courtesy, and devotion.
A magnetic attraction rises between them. Eleanor forgets her surroundings. She only remembers him.
At last her eyes fall on the door, and remain transfixed in that direction.
Giddy Mounteagle, in a costume of wide black and white stripes and leopard's skin cloak, followed by her youthful fiancé, enters the restaurant.