Laure had no cause to repeat her admonition, for, in the days that followed, Pierce Phillips maintained toward the women members of the party an admirable attitude of aloofness¹. He was not rude, neither was he discourteous²; he merely isolated³ himself from them and discouraged their somewhat timid advances toward friendship. This doubtless would have met with Laure's whole-hearted approval had he not treated her in precisely⁴ the same way. She had at first assumed a somewhat triumphant⁵ air of proprietorship⁶ toward him, but this quickly gave way to something entirely⁷ different. They began to know each other, to be sure; for hours upon end they were together, which could have resulted in nothing less than a thorough acquaintance; notwithstanding this, there lurked⁸ behind Phillips' friendly interest an emotional apathy⁹ that piqued¹⁰ the girl and put her on her mettle¹¹. She hid her chagrin¹² under an assumption of carelessness, but furtively¹³ she studied him, for every hour he bulked bigger to her. He exercised a pronounced effect upon her; his voice, his laughter, brought a light and a sparkle to her eyes; she could not rest when he was out of her sight. His appeal, unconscious on his part, struck to the very core of her being. To discover that she lacked a similar appeal for him roused the girl to desperation; she lay awake nights, trying to puzzle out the reason, for this was a new experience to her. Recalling their meeting and the incidents of that first night at White Horse, she realized that here was a baffling secret and that she did not possess the key to it.

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