"I'd like to," she said, sincerely.
"But--but what would you do then?"
"Love, silly!"
"And ... marry?"
"Marry him whom I have promised."
"But you would be wretched!"
"Why? I can't fancy wedding one I love. I should be ashamed, I think. I--if I loved I should not want the man I loved to touch me--not with gloves."
"You little fool!" I said. "You don't know what you say."
"Yes, I do!" she cried, hotly. "Once there was a captain from Boston; I adored him. And once he kissed my hand and I hated him!"
"I wish I'd been there," I muttered.