Everything was perfectly still.

There was nothing in the afternoon but themselves.
When she arose, he, looking on the ground all the time, saw suddenly sprinkled on the black wet beech-roots many scarlet carnation petals, like splashed drops of blood; and red, small splashes fell from her bosom, streaming down her dress to her feet.
"Your flowers are smashed," he said.
She looked at him heavily as she put back her hair.

Suddenly he put his finger-tips on her cheek.
"Why dost look so heavy ?" he reproached her.
She smiled sadly, as if she felt alone in herself.

He caressed her cheek with his fingers, and kissed her.
"Nay!" he said.

"Never thee bother!" She gripped his fingers tight, and laughed shakily.