“May I look over at you?”
“You may glance, but you needn't expect me to return your glance.”
“Oh no.”
“And I want you to take the very first Cambridge car that comes along. I command you to.”
“I thought you wanted me to do the commanding.”
“So I do—in essentials. If you command me not to cry when I get home, I won't.”
She looked at him with an ecstasy of self-sacrifice in her eyes.
“Ah, I sha'n't do that. I can't tell what would open. But—Alice!”
“Well, what?” She drifted closely to him, and looked fondly up into his face. In walking they had insensibly drawn nearer together, and she had been obliged constantly to put space between them. Now, standing at the corner of Arlington Street, and looking tentatively across Beacon, she abandoned all precautions.
“What! I forget. Oh yes! I love you!”