"But that," he replied, with a faint smile, "_that_ wouldn't be any more practical, and you wouldn't want others to call me dar--" Her fingers loosened around his neck, she drew her head back, and a singular expression passed over her face, which to any calmer observer than a lover would have seemed, however, to indicate more curiosity than jealousy.
"Who else _does_ call you so ?" she added earnestly.

"How many, for instance ?" Low's reply was addressed not to her ear, but her lips.

She did not avoid it, but added, "And do you kiss them all like that ?" Taking him by the shoulders, she held him a little way from her, and gazed at him from head to foot.

Then drawing him again to her embrace, she said, "I don't care, at least no woman has kissed you like that." Happy, dazzled, and embarrassed, he was beginning to stammer the truthful protestation that rose to his lips, but she stopped him: "No, don't protest! say nothing! Let _me_ love _you_--that is all.

It is enough." He would have caught her in his arms again, but she drew back.