“Right. But do you mind—”
“What?”
“Well, as a matter of fact, there’s a clause in the lease that no one is to go in with their boots on.”
“Why, for goodness sake?”
“They say it spoils the matting.”
“All right,” said Jane, holding up a small foot, and trying to unbutton the shoe on it.
“Let me,” said Leslie, going down on his knees.
The shoe came off, and the little foot in its bronze silk stocking lay in his hands for half a second—half a second during which he was seized with a wild desire to kiss it. Next moment it was out of his hands, and the other was presented to him.
“You are all thumbs!” said Jane. “Do be quick! I’m not a stork to stand on one leg for an hour. There, you’ve burst a button off! I knew you would. Stupid!”
“Pine-breeze will sew it on,” said he, hunting for the button on his knees.