“Only for the pleasure of making it up.”
“Do you think so? You used to make me jealous by talking to other little girls.”
“Oh, never!” he cried, shaking his head, firmly. “It was always you. You were so awfully flirtatious.”
Winnie smiled and looked down at his hand. It held hers as though it would never again let it go.
“I wonder when you first began to like me?” she asked.
“I’ve never liked you. I’ve always loved you, passionately.”
“Always? Even when I wore a pig-tail and square-toed boots?”
“Always! And I always shall,” he cried, boldly putting his arm round her waist. She leaned against it as though it were a comforting support. “And I can’t live without you.”
“Are you sure?”
“You didn’t mean it when you said you couldn’t love me?” he murmured, vehemently.