At length everything was ready. He had placed two chairs opposite one another, but she wouldn't have it, and made him lug up a bench, lay a cushion on it, and sit beside her.
They behaved foolishly; she fed him strawberries at intervals, discreetly, on a fork—and otherwise.
"Think of it! Fruit—at three in the morning, Louis! I hope Heaven will protect this working girl…. No, dear, I'd rather not have any champagne…. You forget that this is a brand-new girl you're supping with … And, for reasons of her own—perhaps as an example to you—there is never again to be anything like that—not even a cigarette."
"Nonsense—"
"Oh, it's on account of my voice, not my morals, goose! I have rather a nice voice you know, and, if we can afford it, it would be a jolly good idea to have it cultivated …Isn't this melon divine! What fun, Louis!… I believe you are a little happier. That crease between your eyes has quite disappeared—There! Don't dare let it come back! It has no business there I tell you. I know it hasn't—and you must trust my word. Will you?"
She leaned swiftly toward him, placed both hands on his shoulders.
"You've a perfectly new girl to deal with," she said, looking him in the eyes;—"a miracle of meekness and patience that is rather certain to turn into a dreadful, frowsy old hausfrau some day. But that's the kind you wanted…. It's none of my doings—"
"Valerie!"
"What?"
"You darling!—do you mean—"