Moods must find some outlet.

One can nearly perfectly control the face and hands; the foot is least guarded.
The young man by the nearest poppy-bed plucked a great scarlet flower.
Luckily for him the head gardener was not about.

Then slowly he walked over to the young woman.

The little foot became still.
"I am sailing day after to-morrow for Rio Janeiro," he said.

He laid on the broad marble top of the baluster a little chamois-bag.