She looked up at him. The wonderful yellow light in her eyes now was
soft and yielded, they were at peace with each other. He kissed her,
softly, many, many times. A laugh came into her eyes.
'Did I abuse you?' she asked.
He smiled too, and took her hand, that was so soft and given.
'Never mind,' she said, 'it is all for the good.' He kissed her again,
softly, many times.
'Isn't it?' she said.
'Certainly,' he replied. 'Wait! I shall have my own back.'
She laughed suddenly, with a wild catch in her voice, and flung her
arms around him.
'You are mine, my love, aren't you?' she cried straining him close.
'Yes,' he said, softly.
His voice was so soft and final, she went very still, as if under a
fate which had taken her. Yes, she acquiesced--but it was accomplished
without her acquiescence. He was kissing her quietly, repeatedly, with
a soft, still happiness that almost made her heart stop beating.
'My love!' she cried, lifting her face and looking with frightened,
gentle wonder of bliss.
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