“You know that doesn’t matter. Time! Why, the first minute I saw you, there in that beastly school, I knew I was done for. You looked so lovely and so dignified. Such a lady. Just the sort of girl I’d always thought about. My lovely girl! My dear, beautiful girl!”
For some reason her eyes filled with tears. His voice touched her so, moved her so profoundly. She couldn’t pretend, couldn’t hesitate. Because she knew, too, perfectly well. She looked up at him with a trembling smile.
“It’s silly!” she said. “We don’t know each other.”
“I know you, darling, as well as if I’d seen you every day for a year.”
“But, really, we must be sensible,” she said, seriously. “We’ll have to wait—not commit ourselves to anything definite. We’ll be friends——”
“Not I! I want to commit myself as much as possible. Won’t you commit yourself just a little bit, darling girl? Just go so far as to say you like me?”
“You know I like you,” she said, smiling.
He could laugh now, tease her; he knew she was won.
They left the tea-room and began to stroll down Fifth Avenue. And at every crossing he took her arm and their eyes met, and a ridiculous and passionate happiness filled them both.