“You are nice!” she said impulsively, holding out both gloveless hands. He held them, she looking at him very sweetly, very confidently.
“Allons! Without malice?” she asked.
“Without malice.”
“Without afterthoughts?”
“Without afterthoughts.”
“And—you are content?” persuasively.
“Of course not,” he said.
“Oh, but you must be.”
“I must be,” he repeated obediently.
“And you are! Say it!”