Then Pansy descended to strategy.
"Mr. Le Breton, will you lend me your handkerchief?" she asked in a mild tone.
"Why do you want it?" the voice of the master demanded.
"To dip it in the fountain there and wash my arm. It feels all horrid and nasty and clammy where that odious man touched it," she said meekly.
The sentiment was one Le Breton approved of and sympathised with.
Letting her go, he drew out his handkerchief.
Taking it, Pansy turned towards the fountain. He followed and stood beside her, obviously waiting until her task was finished before carrying the situation further.
As Pansy scrubbed away at her arm, she kept a rather nervous eye on him.
When the task was completed, she screwed the handkerchief up into a loose, wet ball. But she did not throw it on the ground as Le Breton expected and was waiting for her to do, before taking her into his arms again.
Instead, she threw it into his face.