She put her two hands on his sides, and ran them quickly down.
"You are so FINE!" she said.
He laughed, hating her voice, but his blood roused to a wave of flame by her hands.

She did not seem to realise HIM in all this.

He might have been an object.

She never realised the male he was.
He lighted his bicycle-lamp, bounced the machine on the barn floor to see that the tyres were sound, and buttoned his coat.
"That's all right!" he said.
She was trying the brakes, that she knew were broken.
"Did you have them mended ?" she asked.
"No!" "But why didn't you ?" "The back one goes on a bit." "But it's not safe." "I can use my toe." "I wish you'd had them mended," she murmured.
"Don't worry--come to tea tomorrow, with Edgar." "Shall we ?" "Do--about four.

I'll come to meet you." "Very well." She was pleased.