“Yes”—flushing a little.
“But I’m not. Kissing you”—with deliberation—“is One of the things I shall never regret. When I come to make my peace with Heaven and repent in sackcloth and ashes for my sins of omission and commission, I shan’t include this afternoon in the list, I assure you. It was worth it—if I pay for it afterwards in hell.”
He was silent for a moment. Then:
“But I’ll promise you one thing. I’ll never kiss you again till you give me your lips yourself.”
Jean smiled at the characteristic speech. She supposed this was as near an apology as Burke would ever get.
“That’s all right, then,” she replied composedly. “Because I shall never do that.”
He flicked the chestnut lightly with the whip.
“I think you will,” he said. “I think”—he looked at her somewhat enigmatically—“that you will give me everything I want—some day.”