Nevertheless she obeyed him, closing the book and putting her papers in a drawer.
"Look here, if you must be busy to the last moment, come over here nearer the light and address these envelopes for me--and I'll have a pipe."
Norah came meekly to the window and took the chair that Dale had vacated for her. Standing close behind the chair and looking down upon her, he noticed the deft way in which her hands gathered the loose envelopes and stacked them; the shapeliness of her arms and shoulders; and the ivory whiteness of her cheek. It was the fading light that produced this effect, because she was not by any means a pale girl. Her skin, although white enough, had warm tones in it, and under it still warmer tones--a brownish glow, like a sunburn that had been transmitted by nomad ancestors who baked themselves under fierce southern skies centuries ago. The gipsy blood showed to that extent in her complexion, and to a greater extent in her hair.
And suddenly he thought of what Mavis had been as a girl. She had a white skin--if you please; much whiter than Norah's; but she was like this girl in many respects, was Mavis when he first saw her. She and Norah were as like as two peas out of one pod in the matter of looking fragile and yet firm, as gracefully delicate of form as it is possible to be without arousing any suspicion of debility or unhealthiness. The back of Mavis' stooping neck used to be exactly like this girl's--a smooth, round stem, without a crease or a speck on it, a solid, healthy neck, and yet so slender that his great hand would almost girdle it.
"Aren't I doing right?" Norah looked up quickly. "I'm copying the addresses off the letters."
"No, you're doing quite right." Dale put his hands in his pockets and moved away to the high stool. "What made you think you were doing wrong?"
"Oh, I don't know. I always get nervous when you watch me and don't say anything."
"Then we'll talk. There, I'll wait till you're through, and then we'll talk a bit."
"I am through now," said Norah in a minute. "Shall I put the stamps on?"
"No, don't trouble. I'll do it myself--and post 'em at the pillar."
He had seated himself on the stool and had brought out his pipe. He looked at its bowl reflectively, and then began to talk to Norah about the children.