She reached out her hands to him—little, nervous hands full of purpose. She drew him close. She raised her lips to his. The mistletoe dangled above their heads.
"Will you kiss me, Jeff?" she whispered.
He stooped, half-hesitating.
Her arms stole about his neck. "You needn't—ever—be afraid to kiss your own wife, dear," she said. "I want your love just in the ordinary way—the ordinary way."
He held her to him. "Dot—Dot—forgive me!"
She shook her head with frank, fearless eyes raised to his. "It was a bad bargain, Jeff. Forget it!"
"And make another?" he suggested.
To which she answered with her quick smile. "Love makes no bargains, Jeff. Love just gives—and gives—and gives."
And as his lips met hers he knew the wondrous truth of what she said. For in that one long kiss she gave him all she had. And love conquered, just in the old, sweet, ordinary way.