Her cheeks were flushed with pleasure.

She held in her lap a pretty little golden vase.

Her clever fingers were passing over it rapidly, exactly as they had passed, the previous evening, over my face.
"Shall I tell you what the pattern is on your vase ?" she went on.
"Can you really do that ?" "You shall judge for yourself.

The pattern is made of leaves, with birds placed among them, at intervals.

Stop! I think I have felt leaves like these on the old side of the rectory, against the wall.