To her, flowers appealed with such strength she felt she must make them part of herself.

When she bent and breathed a flower, it was as if she and the flower were loving each other.

Paul hated her for it.

There seemed a sort of exposure about the action, something too intimate.
When he had got a fair bunch, they returned to the house.

He listened for a moment to his mother's quiet movement upstairs, then he said: "Come here, and let me pin them in for you." He arranged them two or three at a time in the bosom of her dress, stepping back now and then to see the effect.