Finally self-consciousness returned to both with a rush. They blushed and turned from each other.
"You must go now," the girl said gently.
He understood from her tone that she did not greatly desire him to go, but that it was up to him to find a reason for staying.
"Let me help you get your things in order," he said eagerly. "You can't shove trunks and furniture around."
She hesitated, thinking perhaps of the censorious landlady.
Evan made haste to follow up his advantage. "This trunk. Where will you have it put?"
She gave in to him with the ghost of a shrug. "It has nothing in it that I shall want," she said. "Shove it as far back in the closet as it will go."
In the closet her dresses were already hanging. The delicate perfume he had already remarked made his head swim again. As he bent down to shove the trunk back, her skirts brushed his cheek like a caress. They were burning when he came out. Perhaps she guessed; at any rate she quickly turned her head.
"You don't want the sofa in the middle of the room," Evan said to create a diversion.
"Put it with its back against the fireplace, please. I shall not be having a fire for months to come. That will leave the space by the window for my writing-table."