“Generally,” answered the young girl, and she began to eat the orange.
Brook took another from the dish before him.
“Let me see,” he said, turning it round and round. “You cut a slice off one end.” He began to cut the peel.
“Not too deep,” said Clare, “or you will cut into the fruit.”
“Oh—thanks, awfully. Yes, I see. This way?”
He took the end off, and looked at her for approval. She nodded gravely, and then turned away her eyes. He made the two cuts round the peel, crosswise, and looked to her again, but she affected not to see him.
“Oh—might I ask you—” he began. She looked at his orange again, without a smile. “Please don’t think me too dreadfully rude,” he said. “But it was so pretty, and I’m tremendously anxious to learn. Was it this way?”
His fingers teased the peel, and it began to come off. He raised his eyes with another look of inquiry.
“Yes. That’s all right,” said Clare calmly.
She was going to look away again, when she reflected that since he was so pertinacious it would be better to see the operation finished once for all. Then she and her mother would get up and go away, as they had finished. But he wished to push his advantage.