There's the paragraph. Kneebone, who did not appear in the slightest degree disconcerted by his cool reception, each sank carelessly into a chair, and made himself at home in a moment. “Why don’t you wear your white blouse more often? It is the prettiest shirt you own. That's one of the troubles with young folks: they take themselves so seriously. Our ideal had fallen. It might be upset. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. She regarded him coldly, as though wondering whether he had anything further to say. So while he talked to this girl of work and freedom, his slightly protuberant eyes were noting the gracious balance of her limbs and body across the gate, the fine lines of her chin and neck. ’ ‘On the contrary. He yelled but he had no breath to support his own voice. Surely she could ignore him. There were shadows under his eyes. She had gained respect all about town with news of her fine marriage, and her reputation as a beauty was expanding.
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