“They were interrupted as a young girl walked along the pavement in front of the sessions house, calling," Flowers! Fresh-cut flowers! "She stopped in front of them." Posy for the lady, sir? "
Ransom turned to the girl, who wore a colorful scarf over her long dark hair and a patchwork apron over her black dress. She carried a flat basket filled with posyes, their stems wrapped with bits of colored ribbon.
"There's no need-" Garrett began, but Ransom ignored her, browsing over the tiny bouquets of roses, narcissus, violets, forget-me-nots, and dianthus.
"How much?" he asked the flower girl.
"A farthing, sir."
He glanced at Garrett over his shoulder. "Do you like violets?"
"I do," she said hesitantly.
Ransom gave the flower-girl a sixpence and picked out one of the posyes.
"Thank you, sir!" The girl scurried away as if fearing he might change his mind.
Ransom turned to Garrett with the cluster of purple blossoms. Reaching for the lapel of her walking jacket, he deftly tucked the ribbon-wrapped stem of the posy into a buttonhole.
"Violets make an excellent blood-purifying tonic," Garrett said awkwardly, feeling the need to fill the silence. "And they're good for treating cough or fever."
The elusive dimple appeared in his cheek. "They're also becoming to green-eyed women.”