“Of you ... only of you!”
“Of the intellectual me or the physical me? Do I please you tonight?”
She nearly always wore grey, a ribbon or a flower, material or cut, diversified her wardrobe. Tonight the grey material was the softest crêpe de chine; and she wore one pink rose in a blue belt. This treatment gave value to her blonde cendré hair and fair complexion, she gave the impression of a most delicate, slightly faded, yet modern miniature.
“You always please me.”
“Please, or excite you?”
“My dear one!”
He was startled, thought she did not know what it was she was saying. His blood leaped, but he had it under control. What was growing perfectly between them was love. She would soon be a free woman.
“I want to know. Sometimes I wonder if I were more beautiful....”
“You could not be more beautiful.”
“More like other women, or perhaps if you were more like other men....”