“But in England, a man wants a woman to love him before he marries her.”
“How can she?” asked Carlotta.
This was a staggering question.
“I don’t know,” said I, “but she dus.”
“Then before I marry a man in England I must love him? But I shall die without a husband!”
“I don’t think so,” said I.
“I must begin soon,” said Carlotta, with a laugh.
A sinuous motion of her serpentine young body enabled her to bend her face down to mine.
“Shall I love Seer Marcous? But how shall I know when I am in love?”
“When you appreciate the exceeding impropriety of discussing the matter with your humble servant,” I replied.