Hannah loved a good hug: it was like plugging herself into a socket and recharging. And Neville's was a good hug, warm and strong and he was the perfect height, too. She could stay here all day.
But a little voice reminded her that it was cold out, and she had bare feet, and it made her a very bad hostess if she continued to be good and selfish like this and not invite him in. Pulling back, Hannah automatically wiped at her face, though she hadn't been crying (this time). Putting one hand in his, she was about to welcome him inside, but Hannah looked back at the basket and clapped both her hands over her mouth. "Oh! Did I make you drop it? Oh, Nev, I'm so sorry!"