“Why did you cry?” he asked
“Because I was afraid,” she said.
“You are not afraid now?”
“I—I have said I shall not have fear.”
He took both her hands and drew her close to him. There were none to see. The street was deserted. Even the tables and chairs of the café at the corner were piled in close to the wall.
“You love me a little?” he insisted.
There was a tiny pause. “Yes,” she said. It was a queer, decided little syllable, uttered as after mature deliberation. She was looking up into his face.
“Mignonne!” he said, softly, and kissed her. This time her lips were not cold, his caress was not tolerated, but returned. She returned his kiss. It was not the first girl Kendall had kissed, but it opened his eyes to the possibilities of a kiss. It went to his head, and he snatched her up in his arms as if she had been a baby. “You love me?... You will always love me?”
“Yes,” she said, in that same voice of calm decision. “And you?”
“Always.... Always,” he said.