She had broken the rules and laughed.
"How lucky you didn't say that to me four years ago."
"Don't," he said sharply.
"I'm sorry."
He was lighting her candle.
"To-morrow," he said, "you will choose the colour of the garden gates and advise me about the fencing."
"That will be fun."
She shivered.
"Are you cold?"
"One is always cold after India."