"You look done. Is it the heat?"
"Love—love for you," she murmured.
He kissed her neck, first lifting the soft hair behind her ear. Her head rested helplessly on his shoulder.
"I'll see about luncheon when little Mavis will let me," he remarked.
"Don't fidget: I want to talk."
"I'll listen, provided you only talk about love."
"That's what I wanted to talk about."
"Good!"
"No one's ever loved as we do?" she asked anxiously.
"No one."