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Miriam came with the bowl of water and stood
close to him, watching. She loved to see his hands doing things. He
was slim and vigorous, with a kind of easiness even in his most hasty
movements. And busy at his work he seemed to forget her. She loved
him absorbedly. She wanted to run her hands down his sides. She always
wanted to embrace him, so long as he did not want her.
"There!" he said, rising suddenly. "Now, could you have done it
quicker?"
"No!" she laughed.
He straightened himself. His back was towards her. She put her two hands
on his sides, and ran them quickly down.
"You are so FINE!" she said.
He laughed, hating her voice, but his blood roused to a wave of flame
by her hands. She did not seem to realise HIM in all this. He might have
been an object. She never realised the male he was.
He lighted his bicycle-lamp, bounced the machine on the barn floor to
see that the tyres were sound, and buttoned his coat.
"That's all right!" he said.
She was trying the brakes, that she knew were broken.


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