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“…She straightened her back, made me a little bow, and raised my knuckles to her lips.
I flushed with pleasure - until I saw her nostrils quiver, and knew, suddenly, what she smelled: those rank sea-scents, of liquor and oyster-flesh, crab-meat and whelks, which had flavoured my fingers and those of my family for so many years we had all ceased, entirely, to notice them. Now I had thrust them beneath Kitty Butler’s nose! I felt ready to die of shame.
I made, at once, to pull my hand away; but she held it fast in her own, still pressed to her lips, and laughed at me over the knuckles. There was a look in her eye I could not quite interpret.
‘You smell,’ she began, slowly and wonderingly, ‘like-’
‘Like a herring!’ I said bitterly. My cheeks were hot now and very red; there were tears, almost, in my eyes. I think she saw my confusion and was sorry for it.
‘Not at all like a herring,’ she said gently. ‘But perhaps, maybe, like a mermaid…’ And she kissed my fingers properly, and this time I let her; and at last my blush faded, and I smiled.”