"Won't you give me back my kiss, when I've been gone a whole week ?" "Certainly, _mon bon frere_," she replied; and as he inclined his face toward her, she imprinted a slight kiss on his cheek.
"That's not giving me back _my_ kiss," said he.

"I kissed your mouth, and you must kiss mine." "I will if you wish it," she replied, suiting the action to the word.

"But you needn't hold me so tight," she added, as she tried to extricate herself.

Finding he did not release her, she looked up wonderingly in his face, then lowered her eyes, blushing crimson.

No one had ever looked at her so before.
"Come, don't be coy, _ma petite_," said he.
She slipped from him with sudden agility, and said somewhat sharply: "Gerald, I don't want to be always called _petite_; and I don't want to be treated as if I were a child.