She shrank back down onto the bench once she had waved in his direction, in case anyone else had seen – or in case he had and had merely decided to ignore her, in which case Jemima wished she could sink straight through not only the bench, but also the floor and the earth’s crust entire.

But – here he was! “Mr. Humphrey-Mavis!” Jemima said, relieved and a little pleased... though now he had approached, she was slightly worried how that would look if anyone happened to see (not just her unchaperoned, but unchaperoned and with a man). So Jemima sprang to her feet and tugged him by the sleeve a few steps more along the hall, shifting behind one of the statues to better block herself – them both – from anyone else’s view.

“Sorry,” she babbled, voice hushed, and inclined her head at him a little as if she could express her thought-process without actually detailing any of it aloud, because obviously Mr. Humphrey-Mavis should be able to read her mind. “– no, I liked it very much, I – just got a little lost,” she admitted finally, glancing up at him with some sheepishness. “And I can’t get back in. It’s alright, you can laugh.”

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