"I'm going to take my hat off," laughed Aliette. "You won't object, will you? Do you know, I wanted to take my hat off, that first afternoon--at the Bull?"
He watched, dumb, while she ungloved her pale hands, while she lifted them to her hat-pins. The curve of her raised arms fascinated his eyes. Still laughing, she removed the hat; and stretched it out to him.
"You don't recognize this, I suppose?"
"No."
"Nor the dress? It's rather a funny dress for town--don't you think, man? Do you like being called 'man'? I decided that should be my name for you on my way here."
But he could not remember either the hat or the dress. "I like them both," he said, "they're wallflower-brown--the same color as your eyes."
"It's a winter dress--a country dress," she prompted. "So hot--that I'll have to take my coat off."
Recollection stirred in him. His mind went back to the winter. He saw two figures, his and hers, strolling down-hill in the low March sunlight.
"It's the dress you wore at Key Hatch."
"Man, you're getting quite clever. Now tell me why I put it on this afternoon."