She opened, smiling, on a very rosy palm, a network of slender lines, grated and interlaced.
"Oh, shut it up!" he frowned. "Hide it from your dearest friend. Ah, my simplicity which thought you so different from all that!"
She laughed, and screwing up her hand looked down into its little cup.
"Well," she said; "tell me what you see in it."
But he shook his head.
"I shut my eyes," he declared solemnly. "Hold it a little further off."
"I shan't," she said.
"I mean," he explained, "that a yard away it's everything that one could wish."
She surveyed her hand reflectively. There had been those who wished it a good deal nearer than that; and who had wished in vain.
"At what people call a safe distance, I suppose," she said. "I think you're very fond of safe distances."