"You're jealous!"
"By God, yes. I am jealous, though I suppose I ought to be ashamed of it."
She sat in bed, propped up with pillows. She had been reading Shakespeare's sonnets aloud to me. The big green-shaded reading lamp cast a dim light that pervaded the room.
She reached out both arms to me, the wide sleeves falling back from them, and showing their feminine whiteness....
I sat down beside her, caught her to me, kissed her till she was breathless....
"There ... there ... please! Please!"
"What! you're not tiring of my kisses?"
"No, dearest boy, but I have a curious feeling, I tell you ... maybe we're being watched...."
"Nonsense ... he believes I told him the truth."