“Well,” he said: “shall we begin to speak good-bye?”
“O, no! the briefest parting. Must it not be so?”
“’Tis for you to say.”
“I say it then. Bonbec?”
“Good-bye, lady!”
“One moment. There was something—one last thing I had to say. What was it? It has slipped my mind.”
“Consider on it, while I hold you.”
“It will come in a minute——”
“Or ten, or twenty.”
“No; you must go. How prettily your hair grows from your forehead.”