'Ah! Have those beloved fingers of mine—yes, you are mine; you know you are!—have they been counted before?'
'It is the most dangerous habit a man can contract, that of asking questions, more especially when he is going to be married.'
'You have said it. Oh, you bold child, how brazenly you repeated the word! But, Stella——'
'Well, once upon a time, as you know already, I did think of marrying; but I never loved before.'
'And I, Stella, my darling——'
'Ah, that is part of your story!—ah, of course I know! I have read so many plays, and then there is Tom and people. How many sonnets did you write to eyebrows before you were eighteen, let us say?'
'Would you like me to count?'
'No. After all, you couldn't tell what a darling I am if you had not found how foolish it was to love anyone else.'
'Stella, will you be a good, loving child? Kiss me once of your own free will.'
'Oh, Anselm—next time, perhaps——'