I would have no other boy but you.

Ah, if you would! You do not know how one tires of the music-hall, the drinks, the smiles! I would do just all you please--be gay, be solemn, talk, be silent, just as you please! Oh, if you would!" Half in and half out of her dress, she stood there, pleading.

Peter looked closely at the little face with its rouge and powder.
"You hate that!" she exclaimed, with quick intuition.

"See, it is gone.

I use it no more, only a leetle, leetle, for the night." And she ran across to the basin, dipped a little sponge in water, passed it over her face, and turned to him triumphantly.
Peter sighed.