'Cold!' he exclaimed. 'But you are warm with me--' 'But my feet are out on the grass, dear, and they are like wet pebbles.' 'Oh dear!' he said. 'Why didn't you give them me to warm?' He leaned
forward, and put his hand on her shoes.
'They are very cold,' he said. 'We must hurry and make them warm.' When they rose, her feet were so numbed she could hardly stand. She
clung to Siegmund, laughing.
'I wish you had told me before,' he said. 'I ought to have known....' Vexed with himself, he put his arm round her, and they set off home.