But before it could join the Nile, Mrs.Nevill Tyson had rubbed out the map, campaign and all, with the tips of her shoes.
"There's a park-keeper coming," said she, "he'll wonder why we're making such a mess of his nice gravel-walk." The park-keeper came, he looked at the gravel and frowned, he looked at Mrs.Nevill Tyson, smiled benignly, and passed on.

Perhaps he wondered.
They got up and walked as far as the Corner, where they looked at the Achilles statue.

Under the shadow of the pedestal Mrs.Nevill Tyson took a bunch of violets from her waistband.
"What are you going to do with that ?" said Louis.
"I'm going to stick it in Achilles' buttonhole.

Oh, I see, Achilles hasn't got a buttonhole.

I must put it in yours then." She put it in.
Louis's dark face flushed.