"Poor fellow!"
He had sat down in a low chair close to hers, and she bent down and kissed him on the forehead.
"At least, I don't think you'll like any one better than you like me, and I must be content with that."
"I have worshiped you for years. Was ever beauty so exacting?"
"With lucid intervals?"
"Never a moment. A sense of duty once led me astray—dynastic considerations—a suitable cousin."
"Yes; and I suppose a moonlight night."
"Pereant quae ante te! You know a little Latin?"
"I think I'd better not just now."
"You may want it for yourself, you know, with a change of gender. But we'll not bandy recriminations."