For a moment Dahlia thought that her momentum might bring down Mr. Honeyduke as well, much as children well when they played ring around the rosey and someone went down, but he surprised her staying upright. In fact he not only did not fall, but managed to get her back up. Granted her hauled her to her feet in such a manner that her shoulder and arm throbbed and for a moment she had worried he would tear her whole arm off (a silly notion as Mr. Honeyduke didn't look like a strong man at the carnival but she'd never have expected such strength from him in any case). So arm throbbing, his hand tight around her wrist, she tried to keep pace with him. Her free hand pulled her skirts away from her ankles, in hopes of keeping herself from falling again.

At least he had apoligized, Dahlia thought grimly as they continued running, and the glimpse of the aforementioned goose behind her was enough to make her listen. But there was no way she would be able to talk as they ran. Her corset was digging into her with every movement and Dahlia could barely breathe against it's confines. Spots were starting to come into her vision with the lack of breathe, but she willed herself forward. If Mr. Honeyduke said ran, well she supposed that meant she was going to run.

This definitely wasn't how she had pictured meeting him for the first time since they had begun exchanging letters.