"Do, to please me, lock all your doors before you go to bed."
("He seems to guess what we shall all be dreaming of to-night.")
Timéa smiled, and smoothed away the frown from the bridegroom's grave face.
"Well, then, for your sake I will lock all my doors to-night."
("See that they are secure," whispered the dragon.)
Then followed a tender embrace and a long, long kiss.
"Do you pray, my beloved?"
"No; for the good God in whom I believe watches ever."
("How if He slept to-day?")
"Forgive me, dearest Timéa; skepticism does not become a woman. Her adornment is piety; leave the rest to men. Pray to-night."