"But it is so."
"No, it is not! We are to be above mere sentiment. Reason rules us."
"Are we not to wed?"
"Oh—as for that——" She thought for a while, closely considering my palm. "Yes—that might some day be a part of it.... When we have attained to every honour and consideration, and our thoughts and desires are purged and lifted to serene and lofty heights of contemplation. Then it would be natural for us to marry, I suppose."
"Meanwhile," said I, "youth flies; and I may not lay a finger on you to caress you."
"Not to caress me—as that woman did to you——"
"Lois!"
"I can not help it. There is in her—in all such women—a sly, smooth, sleek and graceful beast, ever seeming to invite or offer a caress——"
"She is sweet and womanly; a warm friend of many years."
"Oh! And am I not—womanly?"