"Scarcely," he said carelessly. "This stupid mummy of an arm of mine prevents me rolling a cigarette, you see."
"How stupid of me to forget that!" she said. "Give me the tobacco and the paper and let me try."
He produced the necessary articles promptly; and showed her how to do it.
"Not quite so much tobacco"—she had taken out enough for ten cigarettes, and spilled sufficient for another five—"and—er—if you could get it more equal along the paper. Like this—ah, thanks!"
In showing her, his fingers got "mixed" with hers, but Nell seemed too absorbed in her novel experiment to notice the fact.
"Like that? Rather like a miniature sausage, isn't it? And it will all come undone when I let go of it," she added apprehensively.
"If you'll be so good as just to wet the edge with your lips," he said, in a matter-of-fact way.
She looked at him, and a faint dash of color came into her face.
"You won't like to smoke it afterward," she said coolly.
He stared at her, then smiled.