"Wishing again! Can't you do something beyond wishing?"
She flashed a swift look at him and then the dark silky lashes drooped. He must have been dull indeed not to have understood. His arm was about her. He drew her closer to him passionately. It was the first time, though he had over and over again longed to do so.
"I love you—don't you know I do?" he whispered.
"I've sometimes thought as much but you've been very slow in telling me," she murmured lightly.
"Ah, I was afraid what your answer might be. Ridicule and a reproof for my impertinence. Even now I don't realise my happiness."
"Then you must," she cried imperiously. "How do you know I shan't be whirled away from you unless you hold me very tight? Oh, Lance, I've a misgiving—"
She stopped. She shivered slightly and he drew her cloak tightly about her and kissed the cherry lips within the hood.
"You're cold, dearest. Let us hurry. I ought not to have lingered," said he.
"No, no. I'm not a bit cold. I only had a sort of feeling that—kiss me again."
He was quick to obey and her kisses were as fervent as his.