"I care for you more. I've cared for you longer, too."
"How long, Yellow-hair?"
"Ever—ever since your head lay on my knees in my car a year ago last winter! You know it, too," she added. "You are a spoiled young man. I shall not tell you again how much I care for you!"
"Say 'love',' Yellow-hair," he coaxed.
"No!"
"Don't you?"
"Don't I what?"
"Love me?"
"Yes."
"Then won't you say it?"