And her rather red, nervous hands looked so pitiful, he was mad to comfort her and kiss her.

But then be dared not--or could not.

There was something prevented him.

His kisses were wrong for her.
They continued the reading till ten o'clock, when they went into the kitchen, and Paul was natural and jolly again with the father and mother.

His eyes were dark and shining; there was a kind of fascination about him.
When he went into the barn for his bicycle he found the front wheel punctured.
"Fetch me a drop of water in a bowl," he said to her.