As the day's work came to an end, Alice and I walked side by side along the path home. Several times I wanted to take her little hand, but whether she did it on purpose or by accident, every time I brushed against the back of her hand she would quicken her pace, as if trying to put some distance between us. Yet each time, after moving just a few steps ahead, she would slow down again, maintaining a distance that was neither too close nor too far.
"Does Alice not want to hold hands?" I probed gently.
Alice turned her head back and flashed an "I know your game" look. "Oh—here we go with my perverted father always wanting to touch my hand."
Chapter 46