"You have them," she replied, serenely.
"I mean your heart?"
"You have it."
"I mean your--love, Dorothy?"
"Ah," she said, with a faint smile, "I wish you could--I wish somebody could."
I was silent.
"And I never shall love; I know it, I feel it--here!" She pressed her side with a languid sigh that nigh set me into fits o' laughter, yet I swallowed my mirth till it choked me, and looked at the stars.
"Perhaps," said I, "the gentle passion might be awakened with patience ... and practice."
"Ah, no," she said.
"May I touch your hand?"