I walked out on to the balcony and swung myself over the coping.

"Because then I should have asked if I might kiss you."

When I had lowered myself on to the seat of the car, I unbuckled
the strap and started to pull it down. But the buckle caught on
the baluster, and I had to stand on my old perch to reach and
loosen it. I did so, balancing myself with one hand on the
balcony's door. As the strap slipped free, there was a burning
pain in my fingers. With a cry I tore them away, lost my
balance, and fell sideways into the car on to the back of the
front seat. I stood up unsteadily. It hurt me to breathe
rather, and there was a stabbing pain in my right side.

"Are you hurt?" said a quick voice above me. Dazedly I raised
my head. Silvia was leaning over the balcony, one hand to her
white throat. I could hear her quick-coming breath.

"No," I said slowly, "I'm not. But until you tell me that you
know I did not mean what I said, I will not believe that you did
not mean to stand upon my fingers."

"Are you hurt, lad?"

"No. Did you hear what I said?"

Silvia stood up, her hands before her on the coping.

"You know I didn't."