Chéri kept his eyes on their hands, to memorise the movement, like dance steps. They pressed their lips together and repeated, nodding.
Chéri followed the operation once again. It was probably a lousy job, but at least the movement had been correctly executed. They did it once or twice again, so that they could legitimately start to see a pattern that had been created by their hands.

And once they looked up once again and found Anne’s eyes, Chéri smiled warmly and rose the work a little. Is this right? They were mimicking. As far as Anne’s fascination with them, Chéri was way too experienced with the world not to see it. They were also far too experience not to ignore it, since they had no reason to be cruel to Anne. She was -in theory- more his peer than anyone he had spoken to in Whitby. In practice, Chéri felt ten years older or more. This didn’t prevent them to enjoy the little lesson like a child would.