He looked at her beautiful figure.
"You want some flowers," he said, going to the nearest florist's.
She followed him in silence.

He bought her a bunch of scarlet, brick-red carnations.

She put them in her coat, flushing.
"That's a fine colour!" he said.
"I'd rather have had something softer," she said.
He laughed.
"Do you feel like a blot of vermilion walking down the street ?" he said.
She hung her head, afraid of the people they met.

He looked sideways at her as they walked.

There was a wonderful close down on her face near the ear that he wanted to touch.