Than a roof, and clothes, and food, and--love. How much did he love her?
Oh, better than anything else in the world.
Well, then, let him take time and look around him, and get house, and clothes, and food such as gamekeepers and grooms may have. Those would be his contributions to their lives. She would supply the love.
But lady and gentleman could not live in such a way.
Why not? He was a gentleman, and she was a lady, and poverty could take none of these poor possessions away, any more than riches could create them. Let him get a gamekeeper's wages, and she would share them with him, and give him all her love, every day renewed.
But----
Ah! Then all she had to give was not worth as much to him as a gamekeeper valued his own wife at. Good-bye. The air was damp, and this wood was chilly.
Yes, it looked as if it were going to rain. She would not leave him thus. She would say good-bye to him, and give him one kiss at parting.
She would say good-bye, and he might have as many kisses as he cared for, provided she got soon away--for it was going to rain. No man had ever kissed her but him. Kisses did not mean anything, or words either. Why did he draw back? She told him he might kiss her if he chose. Any man might kiss her now. Kisses or words did not mean anything. Well, good-bye. Whither was he going? It would surely rain. Whither, did he say?
"To hell!"