Barney saw his trim dark head and his bright blue waistcoat among the branches, and his heart gave a guilty throb of relief.

But soon he noted that Charlotte had not her basket, and the conviction seized him that Thomas had it and was filling it with the very choicest cherries from the topmost branches, as was indeed the case.
Charlotte never looked at Barney, although she knew well when he came.

She stood smiling beside another girl, her smooth fair hair gleaming in the sun, her neck showing pink through her embroidered lace kerchief, and her gleaming head and her neck seemed to survey Barney as consciously as her face.

Suddenly the fierceness of the instinct of possession seized him; he said to himself that it was his wife's neck; no one else should see it.

He felt like tearing off his own coat and covering her with rude force.