She shook her head.
“Please!” he begged. “You will never be able to stand during all I have to tell you. Besides, you forget my delicate physique; I have been repeatedly warned against over-exertion.”
She sank gracefully to the grass in a billowing of white muslin, smiling and frowning at once as though annoyed by his persistence, yet too amiable to refuse. All of which produced its effect, Ethan realizing that she was doing him a great favor and becoming duly grateful. He followed her example, seating himself on the turf in front of her, paying, however, less attention to the disposition of his feet. Unconsciously his hand sought a pocket, then dropped away again. She laughed softly.
“Please do,” she said.
“You’re sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” she answered. So he produced his cigarette case and then his match-box and finally blew a breath of gray smoke toward the motionless branches overhead.
“Feel better?” she asked sympathetically.
“Much, thank you.”
“Then you may begin.”