“I think I must have lost a handkerchief here yesterday,” she announced by way of greeting and explanation.
“A handkerchief?” he cried. “Let me help you search.”
“Oh, don’t bother! It doesn’t matter, of course, only—I thought that if it was here I’d get it.”
But Ethan was already out of the canoe.
“Er—what was it like?” he asked.
“Rather plain, I think; just a narrow lace edge.”
They looked diligently over the grass. Plainly it was not there. She raised her head, brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead and laughed.
“I’m always losing them,” she said apologetically.