Mr. Thornton had determined that he would make no inquiry of his mother as to how far she had put her project into execution of speaking to Margaret about the impropriety of her conduct. He felt pretty sure that, if this interview took place, his mother's account of what passed at it would only annoy and chagrin him, though he would all the time be aware of the colouring which it received by passing through her mind. He shrank from hearing Margaret's very name mentioned; he, while he blamed her--while he was jealous of her--while he renounced her--he loved her sorely, in spite of himself. He dreamt of her; he dreamt she came dancing towards him with outspread arms, and with a lightness and gaiety which made him loathe her, even while it allured him. But the impression of this figure of Margaret--with all Margaret's character taken out of it, as completely as if some evil spirit had got possession of her form--was so deeply stamped upon his imagination, that when he wakened he felt hardly able to separate the Una from the Duessa; and the dislike he had to the latter seemed to envelop and disfigure the former. Yet he was too proud to acknowledge his weakness by avoiding the sight of her. He would neither seek an opportunity of being in her company nor avoid it. To convince himself of his power of self-control, he lingered over every piece of business this afternoon; he forced every movement into unnatural slowness and deliberation; and it was consequently past eight o'clock before he reached Mr. Hale's. Then there were business arrangements to be transacted in the study with Mr. Bell; and the latter kept on, sitting over the fire, and talking wearily, long after all business was transacted, and when they might just as well have gone upstairs. But Mr. Thornton would not say a word about moving their quarters; he chafed and chafed, and thought Mr. Bell a most prosy companion; while Mr. Bell returned the compliment in secret, by considering Mr. Thornton about as brusque and curt a fellow as he had ever met with, and terribly gone off both in intelligence and manner. 
Mr. Thornton had determined not to ask his mother about her interview with Margaret. He felt pretty sure that his mother's account would only annoy him. He shrank from hearing Margaret's name mentioned. While he blamed her - was jealous of her - renounced her - he loved her sorely, in spite of himself. He dreamt of her; he dreamt she came dancing towards him with outspread arms, and with a lightness and gaiety which made him loathe her, even while it allured him. The impression of this figure of Margaret, with all her character taken out of it, was deeply stamped upon his imagination when he wakened.
Yet he was too proud to acknowledge his weakness by avoiding the sight of her. He would neither seek to be in her company nor avoid it. To convince himself of his power of self-control, he lingered over every piece of business that afternoon; so it was past eight o'clock before he reached Mr. Hale's. Then there was business to be discussed in the study with Mr. Bell, who kept talking long after it was done, when they might just as well have gone upstairs. Mr. Thornton chafed, and thought Mr. Bell a most prosy companion; while Mr. Bell considered Mr. Thornton as brusque a fellow as he had ever met with.
