"Does music 'soothe your savage breast'?" she asked.
"It could never be savage where you're concerned, Pansy,"
"You talk as if I were quite different from other people."
"So you are. The only woman I've ever loved."
"When you talk like that, the wobbling comes on," she remarked.
To avoid his reply, she started playing again.
Getting to his feet, Le Breton went to the piano. Standing behind her, his arms encircling her, he lifted the small, music-making hands from the keys, and holding them, drew her back until her head rested against him.
"Pansy, suppose I consent to a six months' engagement? The waiting would be purgatory; but I could do it with paradise beyond."
"I'm not taking on any engagements. Not for the next ten years, at least."
He laughed softly and put the slim hands back on the piano with a lingering, careful touch, letting them pursue their way. Whether she liked it or not, this lovely, wayward girl would be his before many weeks had passed.