"Yeah, perfect," Ford said, making a conscious effort to look at the skirt and not up at her face or at her perfectly shaped hands or at anything else. The underskirt having been pieced back together already meant that at least he didn't have to contend with her bare leg anymore, which was a mercy. He tried to work through the stitches quickly again, conscious of both his proximity to the young woman and the fact that Barnaby was literally hovering over his shoulder, but these were more visible than the others had been and he didn't want to rush through too much and make a mess of things. He had enough time while he magically knit the skirt back together to consider what he would do once he'd finished. This forethought was the only thing that prevented him from blurting out something stupid like you're really pretty when he at last sat back and allowed himself to look up at her and saw her golden hair haloed by the afternoon sun.

"I'm really sorry about your dress," Ford said as he moved away from her and then climbed back to his feet. A gentleman would have offered to pay for a new one, he thought, but being in the life situation he was Ford was both keenly aware of how much a dress like this cost and how little he could afford it. "I didn't think one gnome could do that much damage, especially as quick as that was."

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