Yes; there could be no doubt that the object of his devotion was Poppy's imperishable soul.
"Well," said Poppy, "that tykes the very tip-top macaroon!" Then she laughed; she laughed as if she would never have done.

She laughed, first with her eyes, then with her throat, then with her whole body, shaking her head and rocking herself backwards and forwards.

She laughed till her hair came down, and he took it and smoothed it into two sleek straight bands, and tied them in a loose knot under her chin.
Then she stopped laughing.

Her face between the two tight sheaths of hair seemed to close and shrink to a thin sharp bud.

It closed and opened again, it grew nearer and bigger, it bent forward and put out its mouth (for it had a mouth, this extraordinary flower) and kissed him.
"I sy, it's nearly one o'clock," said she.