"Ah," she said, "you're cold. You don't know how. Let me look at you. It's not me you want. You want a mother for your children."
"Not I. I want you—you—for myself."
She moved toward him with a low cry, and he took her in his arms and stood still by her without a word. And to his joy, she whom he held (gently, lest he should hurt her) laid her face to his face, and held him with a grip tighter than his own, as if she feared that he would loose himself and leave her. Her eyes closed as he kissed her forehead, and opened as her mouth found his.
Then she drew herself slowly from him.
"You love me then?" she said.
CHAPTER XII
THE awkward thing was telling Jane about it. Jane had been his dead wife's friend before he married her, and she had known her better then than she knew Kitty. Yet he remembered, acutely, how he had gone to her eight years ago, and told her that he was going to marry Amy, and how she had kissed him and said nothing, and how, when he asked her if she had any objection, she had said "No, none. But isn't it a little sudden?"
He wondered how Jane would look when he told her he was going to marry Kitty. That was bound to strike her as very sudden indeed.