John stood before her, looking on.
Looking not only at the progress of the work, but at her.

Mr.John Massingbird was one who had an eye for beauty; he had not seen much in his life that could match with that before him.

As Rachel held the case up to him, the damage repaired, he suddenly bent his head to steal a kiss.
But Rachel was too quick for him.

She flung his face away with her hand; she flushed vividly; she was grievously indignant.

That she considered it in the light of an insult was only too apparent; her voice was pained--her words were severe.
"Be quiet, stupid! I was not going to eat you," laughed John Massingbird.