Beside a garden-bed, half a dozen yards away, and with their backs to the door, knelt Sophia and Tristram. The youth's left arm was around the girl's waist, and the youth's hair mingled with the girl's as unconscious of observation they bent over the mould. It was the same mould in which Sophia, years before, had buried her doll, and now Tristram was helping Sophia to sprinkle it with pepper-cress seed; holding her right hand as she traced this:
The watchers withdrew as softly as they had advanced. But on his way back to the bonfire Captain Barker darted into the house and emerged again with an armful of green volumes.
"What's the meaning of this?" asked Dr. Beckerleg.
The little man trotted round and shot his burden right on top of the pile which Narcissus had by this time stirred into a blaze.
"There doesn't seem to be any further use for 'em," he explained, panting and running back to the house.
He fetched another armful, and then another; and as he discharged the last upon the bonfire, turned and laid a hand upon Captain Runacles' arm.
"Jemmy, old friend, we needn't to have made such a fuss about it, after all."