Burlingtons' dance--he loathed all large parties--and, looking drearily
round, he'd been struck by, and asked to be introduced to, Miss Verney.
She wasn't Eugenia, of course, and could never, he was sure, be part of
his life. He thought that Eugenia appealed to his better nature and to
his intellect.

He felt even a little ashamed of the purely sensuous attraction Hyacinth
possessed for him, while he was secretly very proud of being in love
with Mrs Raymond. Not everyone would appreciate Eugenia! Cecil was still
young enough to wish to be different from other people, while desiring
still more, like all Englishmen, to _appear_ as much as possible like
everybody else.

He did not thoroughly understand Hyacinth; he couldn't quite place her.
She was certainly not the colourless _jeune fille_ idealised by the
French, but she had even less of the hard abruptness of the ordinary
young unmarried Englishwoman. She called herself a bachelor girl, but
hadn't the touch of the Bohemian that phrase usually seems to imply. She
was too plastic, too finished. He admired her social dexterity, her
perfect harmony with the charming background she had so well arranged
for herself. Yet, he thought, for such a young girl, only twenty-two,
she was too complex, too civilised. Mrs Raymond, for instance, seemed
much more downright and careless. He was growing somewhat bewildered
between his analysis of her character and his admiration for her mouth,
an admiration that was rather difficult to keep entirely cool and
theoretical, and that he felt a strong inclination to show in some more
practical manner.... With a sigh he turned to Edith Ottley, his other
neighbour.