Marie smiled now, but she shook her head, too.
“Billy, I cannot have you do all this for me.”
“Why not?”
At the unexpectedly direct question, Marie fell back a little.
“Why, because I—I can't,” she stammered. “I can't get them for myself, and—and—”
“Don't you love me?”
A pink flush stole to Marie's face.
“Indeed I do, dearly.”
“Don't I love you?”
The flush deepened.