Oddly enough I had heard of husbands but had only a shadowy notion of what they were. I knew that there was none in our house.
"What's that?" I asked.
She laughed and answered: "Somebody that a girl is married to."
"You mean a father?"
"Yes."
"Once I had a father," I boasted.
"Well, we'll play we're married and that you have just got home from a journey. You go out in the woods and then you come home and I'll meet you at the door."
I did as she bade me but I was not glad enough to see her.
"You must kiss me," she prompted in a whisper.
I kissed her very swiftly and gingerly—like one picking up a hot coal—and she caught me in her arms and kissed me three times while her soft hair threw its golden veil over our faces.