It was mere nervousness that prevented him coming to you first himself.

He said he had little to go on, and he said something about a flower that you gave him----" Perpetua makes a rapid movement toward a side table, takes a flower from a bouquet there, and throws it at the professor.

There is no excuse to be made for her beyond the fact that her heart feels breaking, and people with broken hearts do strange things every day.
"I would give a flower to _anyone_!" says she in a quick scornful fashion.

The professor catches the ungraciously given gift, toys with it, and--keeps it.

Is that small action of his unseen?
"I hope," he says in a dull way, "that you are not angry with him because he came first to me.