"The woods are full of them."
"Don't you think it is a pity to catch them?"
"For you?" said Basil. He was removing her empty plate, and putting before her another with an orange upon it, so accurately prepared that it stirred her admiration.
"Oranges!" cried Diana. "How did you learn to do everything, Basil?"
"Don't be too curious," said he. As he spoke, he softly put back off her ear a stray lock of the beautiful brown hair, which fell behind her like a cloud of wavy brightness. Even from that touch she inwardly shrank; outwardly she was impassive enough.
"Basil," said Diana suddenly, "didn't I talk foolishly sometimes?—when
I was sick, I mean."
"Don't you ever do it when you are well?"
"Do I?"
"What do you think?" said he, laughing, albeit his heart was not merry at the moment; but Diana's question was naive.
"I did not think I was in the habit of talking foolishly."