“But the portrait has value.”
“That is different.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “I suppose so. I think I begin to understand.”
“I would accept a horse from you, if I was poor and young, and riding very well. But I could not take a motor-car.”
“I understand it now very well. Where can we go now, at this minute, where you can kiss me?”
“In this side alley, if you know no one who lives in it.”
“I don’t care who lives in it. I want to feel you hold me tight and kiss me.”
They turned into the side street and walked toward its blind end.
“Oh, Richard,” she said. “Oh, my dear.”
“I love you.”
“Please love me.”
“I do.”
The wind had blown her hair up and around his neck and he kissed her once more with it beating silkily against both his cheeks.
Then she broke away, suddenly, and hard, and looked at him, and said, “I suppose we had better go to Harry’s.”
“I suppose so. Do you want to play historical personages?”
“Yes,” she said. “Let us play that you are you and I am me.”
“Let’s play,” the Colonel said.
