She can barely answer, she feels such gratitude. Also a disastrous pressure of tears. Weeping in public is something he finds despicable. (He does not think he should have to put up with it in private either.)
She manages to reabsorb her tears, and as if to reward her when they reach Cannes, he folds her into his capacious well-cut garments with their smell of manliness - some mixture of fur-bearing animals and expensive tobacco. He kisses her with decorum but with a small flick of his tongue along her lips, a reminder of private appetites.
She has not, of course, reminded him that her work was on the Theory of Partial Differential Equations, and that it was completed some time ago. she spends the first hour or so of her solitary journey as she usually spends some time after parting from him -balancing signs of affection against those of impatience, and indifference against a certain qualified passion.
(From Too Much Happiness by Alice Munro)