Vinteuil greeted her without
rising, clasping her hands behind her head, and drew her body to one side
of the sofa, as though to 'make room.' But no sooner had she done this
than she appeared to feel that she was perhaps suggesting a particular
position to her friend, with an emphasis which might well be regarded as
importunate. She thought that her friend would prefer, no doubt, to sit
down at some distance from her, upon a chair; she felt that she had been
indiscreet; her sensitive heart took fright; stretching herself out again
over the whole of the sofa, she closed her eyes and began to yawn, so as
to indicate that it was a desire to sleep, and that alone, which had made
her lie down there. Despite the rude and hectoring familiarity with which
she treated her companion I could recognise in her the obsequious and
reticent advances, the abrupt scruples and restraints which had
characterised her father. Presently she rose and came to the window, where
she pretended to be trying to close the shutters and not succeeding.
"Leave them open," said her friend. "I am hot."
"But it's too dreadful! People will see us," Mlle.
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