But why her face should be, in a confused way, like a broken glass to me, in which I saw scraps of old remembrances, and why I should be so fluttered and troubled (for I was still) by having casually met her eyes, I could not think.

But why her face should be like a broken glass to me, in which I saw confused scraps of old remembrances, and why I should be so fluttered and troubled by having casually met her eyes, I could not think.
