“Some Madonna, they'll say; the very picture of the mother of God herself!”

“Are you—are you afraid of me in this frock, dear? Shall I run and take it off?”

“No—no; let me look at you again.”

“But you don't like me to-day, for all that.”

“I?”

“Do you know you've never once kissed me since you came into the room?”

“Glory!”

“My love! my love!”

“And you,” he said, close to her lips, “are you ready for anything?”

“Anything,” she whispered.