She moved free as air.

She could pursue her studies, and argue and discuss and quote, keep unclouded eyes, and laugh and play, and be her whole living self, unfettered, as if the pressure of my hand implied nothing.

Perhaps for that reason I had her pardon.

'My friend, not that!' Her imperishably delicious English rang me awake, and lulled me asleep.

Was it not too securely friendly?
Or was it not her natural voice to the best beloved, bidding him respect her, that we might meet with the sanction of her trained discretion?
The Professor would invite me to his room after the 'sleep well' of the ladies, and I sat with him much like his pipe-bowl, which burned bright a moment at one sturdy puff, but generally gave out smoke in fantastical wreaths.