Complete forgetfulness of what had been, was, of course, impossible, either for Carlia or for Dorian; but he tried manfully not to let the "specter" come too often between him and the girl he loved.
He frequently told her that he loved her, but it was done by simple word or act.

Dorian's greater knowledge gave him the advantage over her.

He was bound by this greater knowledge to be the stronger, the wiser, the one who could keep all situations well in hand.
One evening, when Carlia was unusually sweet and tempting, he asked if he might kiss her goodnight.

She set her face as if it were hard to deny him, but she finally said: "No; you must not." "Why not, Carlia ?" "We're not engaged yet." "Carlia!" "We are not.

I have never promised to marry you, have I ?" She smiled.
"No; I guess not; but that's understood." "Don't be so sure." "There are some things definitely fixed without the spoken word." "Good night, Dorian." She was smiling still.
"Good night, Carlia." Their hands met and clasped, atoning the best they could for the forbidden kiss.
One evening when the feeling of spring was in the air, Dorian was going to call on Carlia, when he heard the approach of an automobile.