Read it through once

Mr. Osmond busied himself for a moment in the room--there was plenty of space in it to move about--in the fashion of a man mechanically seeking pretexts for not giving an attention which may be embarrassing. Presently, however, he had exhausted his pretexts; there was nothing left for him--unless he took up a book--but to stand with his hands behind him looking at Pansy. “Why didn’t you come and see the last of _mamman_ Catherine?” he asked of her abruptly in French.