Brother Timothy's cassock made a peculiar swishing noise as he strode up and down the passage. His face was red, his mouth twitched, whilst his fingers pulled nervously at the buttons upon the cassock. There was something wild, even a little aimless, about this pacing up and down, a kind of clue as to the chaos of his thoughts. One could see at a glance that he was angry. From time to time he muttered to himself and when he did this he always cast a quick and furtive glance at a stout wooden door that opened onto the middle of the dark and musty corridor. His thoughts had neither shape nor order. He was a bewildered man. He simply could not understand the boy. Every time the name Cassidy came into his mind the blood mounted to his forehead. It was the boy's silence that was the enraging thing, his infernal silence, and what was even worse was the something serene that this silence betokened. Curse him for his silence, his serenity, and his content. The boy must have no conscience at all.

Q. On the lines below, list from the paragraph four adjectives which describe Brother Timothy's state of mind.