"I'll draw them for you," he said, going over to the windows and drawing down the blinds as he spoke. "Did you ever see The Merchant of Venice?" he asked when he had done so.
"No," she said.
"There's a bit in it that makes me think of you," he went on.
"Oh, now, don't start plastering me," she exclaimed gaily.
"I mean it," he said, and he quoted the lines about Portia's sunny locks.
"That's poetry." she said.
"It is!" he replied.
"It's queer and nice!"
She opened the door leading to the stairs, and then went back to the room to turn out the light. The room was in semi-darkness, save where a splash of yellow light from the staircase fell at the doorway.
He turned towards her as she made her way to the door, and put out his hand to her. She took hold of it, and as she did so, he caught her quickly to him and drew her into his arms and kissed her soft, warm lips.