"Well? What are you thinking of now?" she asked.
"I think—I really think—under the circumstances I ought to kiss you!" he said—"Don't you feel it would be right and proper? Even on the stage the hero and heroine ACT a kiss when they're engaged!"
She met his laughing glance with quiet steadfastness.
"I cannot act a kiss," she said—"You can, if you like! I don't mind."
"You don't mind?"
"No."
He looked from right to left—the apple-boughs, loaded with rosy fruit, were intertwined above them like a canopy—the sinking sun made mellow gold of all the air, and touched the girl's small figure with a delicate luminance—his heart beat, and for a second his senses swam in a giddy whirl of longing and ecstasy—then he suddenly pulled himself together.
"Dear Innocent, I wouldn't kiss you for the world!" he said, gently—"It would be taking a mean advantage of you. I only spoke in fun. There!—dry your pretty eyes!—you sweet, strange, romantic little soul! You shall have it all your own way!"
She drew a long breath of evident relief.
"Then you'll tell your uncle—"