“Indeed, Miss Bennet. Or you would be less inclined to leave your handkerchiefs behind you." He stooped, then, to retrieve something, and Mary was astonished to find that yes, again, she had let slip a cotton square. Mortified, she reached for it, but his hand was quicker, and he held it up for her. "Do you have a certain disdain for these cloths, Miss Bennet, or is it some code?" he straightened, peering over his shoulder. "Perhaps a cry for help?”
Book:A Trip to Pemberley