"You shall have whiskers if you want them," said Leslie tenderly.
Nancy laughed, and, withdrawing her arm, stopped to pick two or three flowers that were nestling in the hedgerow.
"There you are," she said, putting them in his buttonhole. Then she turned up her face. "You may kiss me now if you like."
Leslie put his hands on her shoulders, and kissed her very gently.
Nancy patted his sleeve.
"You dear, obstinate old thing!" she said. "I believe you like me rather, after all."
"I do a little," said Leslie quietly.
Walking side by side, they came out on to the bend of the hill that leads down into Beechwood village. The small hamlet with its thatched cottages lay spread out below them in the warm July sunshine.
"What a sweet place, isn't it?" said Nancy. "There's the church." She pointed down to a little square tower, half hidden amongst the trees. "And, oh, look!" she added. "There's someone outside with a motor-car. I suppose he's come to see Cardinal Wolsey too."
Leslie said nothing. He was busy flicking away some dust from his coat with his handkerchief.