" And he slipped
his arm round her shoulder, supporting her body against his own; then went
on: "Whatever you do, don't utter a word; just make a sign, yes or no, or
you'll be out of breath again. You won't mind if I put the flowers
straight on your bodice; the jolt has loosened them. I'm afraid of their
dropping out; I'm just going to fasten them a little more securely."
She was not used to being treated with so much formality by men, and
smiled as she answered: "No, not at all; I don't mind in the least."
But he, chilled a little by her answer, perhaps, also, to bear out the
pretence that he had been sincere in adopting the stratagem, or even
because he was already beginning to believe that he had been, exclaimed:
"No, no; you mustn't speak. You will be out of breath again. You can
easily answer in signs; I shall understand. Really and truly now, you
don't mind my doing this? Look, there is a little--I think it must be
pollen, spilt over your dress,--may I brush it off with my hand? That's
not too hard; I'm not hurting you, am I? I'm tickling you, perhaps, a
little; but I don't want to touch the velvet in case I rub it the wrong
way.
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