“You know,” he said in a detached, musing way, “it is well for you to remember that I shall never marry unless I marry you.... Life is long. There are other women.... I may forget you––at intervals.... But I shall never marry except with you, Palla.”
Her smile forced the gravity from her lips and eyes:
“If you behave like a veiled prophet you’ll end by scaring me,” she said.
But he merely gathered her into his arms and kissed her––laid back her head and looked down into her face and kissed her lips, without haste, as though she belonged to him.
Her head rested quite motionless on his shoulder. Perhaps she was still too taken aback to do anything about the matter. Her heart had hurried a little––not much––stimulated, possibly, by the rather agreeable curiosity which invaded her––charmingly expressive, now, in her wide brown eyes.
“So that’s the way of it,” he concluded, still looking down at her. “There are other women in the world. And life is long. But I marry you or nobody. And it’s my opinion that I shall not die unmarried.”
She smiled defiantly.
“You don’t seem to think much of my opinions,” she said.
“Are you more friendly to mine?”