“I don’t know ... ’tis the ring.... Do you love me a deal, Arthur?”
“Kiss me.... Do I what?”
“And would you get me another ring if I was to want it very much?”
“Why, what ails this one?”
“I don’t know.... Buy me another, Arthur. Buy me one of a right goldsmith, paid for wi’ earned money. ’Tis silly, but I shall do many silly things afore we’re old together.”
Again he raised her chin. “Tut! I’ve left you too much alone, dear; but in another week or two—— Open your mouth....”
She did so, adorably, and he put such a noisy kiss there as a mother gives to her babe. But she persisted.
“Will you, love? ’Tis very little!”
“You shall have all the rings you want by and by.”
“Ah, I don’t want that, not that way.—Well, I’ll pay you for it now, with a kiss: then I shall have it, shan’t I?”