He came slowly up-stairs,--his step was ever slow,--and gently opened the door for himself. Then, before he even looked at her, he closed it again. I do not know how to explain that it was so; but it was this perfect command of himself at all seasons which had in part made Alice afraid of him, and drove her to believe that they were not fitted for each other. She, when he thus turned for a moment from her, and then walked slowly towards her, stood with both her hands leaning on the centre table of the room, and with her eyes fixed upon its surface.

He came slowly upstairs - his step was always slow - and gently opened the door for himself. Then, before he even looked at her, he closed it again. It was this perfect command of himself at all times which had in part made Alice afraid of him, and drove her to believe that they were not fitted for each other. She stood with both her hands leaning on the centre table of the room, and with her eyes fixed upon its surface.
