She lifted her face and brushed his cheek with her lashes. "A butterfly's kiss," she said with soft gaiety.
"You've pretty ways—dangerous ways—" Baird said chokingly. "I'll love you too much—that'll be the trouble." He strove for control. "Ann—do you remember what you said to the stars, the night I didn't know my own heart—when you told me what love was?"
"Yes, I remember."
"Repeat it, won't you—I want to hear you say it."
Ann's slurred syllables again made music of it: "Love is wantin' somebody for all your own—so badly you feel sure you can't live without them ... an' at the same time bein' such good friends with them that you care more about makin' them happy than being happy yourself."
"There's a bit of the Golden Rule in that," Baird said. "That's what makes it difficult. Do you think we can live up to it, Ann?"
Ann answered him to the best of her ability.... Years later she answered the same question with a better understanding.
CONCLUSION
Is it permissible to steal a fragment from later history in order to elucidate what has gone before? It is a responsibility the fictional historian must sometimes take.