They shone intensely green in the morning light.
She removed her hand somewhat abruptly.

There was something in his manner that she resented, without knowing why.

"Well ?" she said.
"How do you find yourself this morning ?" asked Max.
"I'm perfectly well, thank you," said Olga briefly.
"Ready to start jam-making ?" he suggested.
Olga went to the coffee-urn.

"I really don't know," she said.

"I've had other things to think about." He smiled a little, the superior, one-sided smile she most detested.
"You mustn't let the fruit go bad," he observed, "after all my trouble." Olga peered into the coffee-urn, without replying.