His suggestion had perhaps not been as helpful as he had thought; perhaps it had been egregious to say, given it was hardly his place to... “My sincerest apologies,” Barnaby said uncertainly, as she turned away and started choking on her tea.
He drifted a little nearer her, helplessly; and might have outstretched a hand towards her back in some long-buried instinct to pat the cough out of her, though of course his touch would do nothing of the kind. Instead, encouragingly, he offered: “You mustn’t perish for that.” (Well. He wouldn’t mind if she did, but he hadn’t meant her to die of discomfort.)
He drifted a little nearer her, helplessly; and might have outstretched a hand towards her back in some long-buried instinct to pat the cough out of her, though of course his touch would do nothing of the kind. Instead, encouragingly, he offered: “You mustn’t perish for that.” (Well. He wouldn’t mind if she did, but he hadn’t meant her to die of discomfort.)
