Mrs. Carroll gave something as nearly resembling a sniff as she could give. I saw she was not in love with her nephew; but Miss Dick’s cat jumped on to his knee and he began to stroke it. There was something in his extreme self-possession which, though I knew it to be based on a profound sense of superiority to everybody present, I could not help admiring, just as I could not help admiring his playing, or, for that matter, his personal beauty, which was striking. And I admired the way he was dressed. While remaining quite conventional, it managed to suggest individuality, and its perfect taste, apparent in the slightest details, gave him, as he sat there, something of the finish, of the harmony and tone, of an old portrait. Again his glance met mine. I believe he knew I had been watching him, and perhaps something of what I had been thinking, and I turned away abruptly. Miss Dick, who had taken a great fancy to him, begged him to play again. He refused, yet a moment later he said, speaking so that nobody but I could hear him, “Would you like me to?” “Not in the least,” I answered rudely. Rather ashamed of myself I got up, crossed the room, and boldly took possession of a chair beside his sister. But with that my boldness ended, and I could think of nothing to say. I had not even sufficient courage to look her in the face, and the fact that I had so deliberately come to sit beside her only to maintain a fixed and gloomy silence made me feel ridiculous. “Do you play golf?” I stammered out at last, the inanity of my remark only striking me after it had left my lips. “She will think I am a fool, and dislike me,” I told myself miserably; but Katherine answered as if the subject had never been alluded to before. Her reply only left me to rack my brains anew. It was no use; a malignant spell appeared to have been cast upon me, holding me tongue-tied, my mind a blank. A perspiration broke out all over my body and I could feel my shirt sticking to my back. Every minute was like an hour, yet I could think of nothing but this accursed golf. I described the links and even the Club House, and might have gone on to enumerate the caddies had I remembered their names. I became suddenly conscious that my hands and feet were enormous. I thrust my hands in my trouser pockets, but my feet still remained visible. I knew my thick nose had neither shape nor character, that my coarse, brown hair was more like a kind of tropical plant than like hair, and that my overhanging brows and the shape of my mouth gave me a sullen look. I had tried to alter my appearance by doing my hair in different ways, but it was no use. I remembered having noticed in the morning, when I was tying my tie, that a slight frown made me more thoughtful looking, and I instantly assumed one. I compared the appearance I imagined myself to present with Gerald’s, and then I saw him watching me with what I believed to be a kind of veiled mockery in his eyes. My shyness turned to rage.