"But no, you get 'em because you want 'em, and that's all." He held out his bunch.
Miriam was silent.

He picked some more.
"Look at these!" he continued; "sturdy and lusty like little trees and like boys with fat legs." Clara's hat lay on the grass not far off.

She was kneeling, bending forward still to smell the flowers.

Her neck gave him a sharp pang, such a beautiful thing, yet not proud of itself just now.

Her breasts swung slightly in her blouse.