“The storm, dear one, is my best friend to-day.”
She almost seems to believe me, her fear vanishes, and feeling my rapture, she enquires whether I have done. I smile and answer in the negative, stating that I cannot let her go till the storm is over. “Consent to everything, or I let the cloak drop,” I say to her.
“Well, you dreadful man, are you satisfied, now that you have insured my misery for the remainder of my life?”
“No, not yet.”
“What more do you want?”
“A shower of kisses.”
“How unhappy I am! Well! here they are.”
“Tell me you forgive me, and confess that you have shared all my pleasure.”
“You know I did. Yes, I forgive you.”
Then I give her her liberty, and treating her to some very pleasant caresses, I ask her to have the same kindness for me, and she goes to work with a smile on her pretty lips.