"Doesn't that count? Doesn't that mean anything?"
"Of course it means something. It means that I sympathized. You had been suddenly deprived of the kisses of your fiancée, and I felt how you must miss them. My kisses were purely vicarious. You were starving, and in her place—purely in her place—I fed you."
"And after two days you throw me adrift to starve some more." His tone was very plaintive.
"I can't go on indefinitely, don't you know," returned Nina. "I don't see how you can ask it. Besides it's fully time you went back to her and made it all up. After you've made it up you'll be sorry you ever saw me. My kisses will be on your conscience. You'll feel like telling her, and you won't dare. So—"
"But I shall never make it up. I've said that a dozen times. It's all over and done with forever."
"Then go to her mother. Isn't she kissable?"
"I hate her mother," he groaned.
"How about her father?"
Carleigh drew up his mouth, winked once with both eyes, and stared.
"Are you suggesting that her father might kiss me?" he asked, at length, in highest indignation.