“Regard? Regard? Regard is the feeling that a miss has for her governess,” said she. “You should have no special trouble expressing your regard for me, sir. ’Tis usually done through the medium of a book of poetry—schoolroom verses writ solely for the sake of the moral in the last stanza. Will you buy me such a volume, Dick?”
“Now ’tis I who have reason to complain of being mocked,” said he.
She started up and stood face to face with him. It seemed to him that she was full of eagerness to say something. She had her fingers interlaced in front of her; there was a tremulous movement about her lips suggesting a flood of emotion about to be released in words.
And the flood came.
“Good-bye!” she said.
And then he understood her.
He took the hand which she had flung out to him and bowed his head down to it.
There was a silence while he laid his lips upon it. And then she gave a derisive laugh.
“You are the greatest fool I ever met in my life!” she cried. “You are a fool, Dick. Any man is a fool who kisses a woman’s hand when he might kiss her lips.”