"Well, if Madame Klesmer got that kind of notion I should tell her to walk to Philadelphia herself."
"Then you don't love her."
"I love her as much as you do, but if she took it into her head to make a fool of me I should send her to the eighty devils."
He winced. "And you call that love, don't you?" he said, with a sneer in the corner of his pretty mouth. "As for me, I should walk to Boston, if she wanted me to."
"Even if she did not promise to let you kiss her?"
"Even if she did not."
"And if she did?"
"I should walk to Chicago."
"And if she promised to be your mistress?"
"Oh, what's the use talking that way?" he protested, blushing. "Aren't you shy! A regular bride-to-be, I declare." "Stop!" he said, coloring once again.