"I will go straight to Aunt Sophia now, when I take you back to
Claridge's," he said, presently, when we had got a little calmer.
I wonder what kisses do that it makes one have that perfectly lovely
sensation down the back, just like certain music does, only much, much
more so. I thought they would be dreadful things when it was a question of
Christopher, but Robert! Oh, well, as I said before, I can't think of any
other heaven.
"What time is it?" I had sense enough to ask presently.
He lit a match and looked at his watch.
"Ten minutes past five," he exclaimed.
"And Christopher was coming about four," I said; "and if you had not
chanced to meet me in the park by now I should have been engaged to him,
and probably trying to bear his kissing me."
"My God!" said Robert, fiercely; "it makes me rave to think of it," and he
held me so tight for a moment I could hardly breathe.
"You won't have any one else's kisses ever again in this world, and that I
tell you," he said, through his teeth.
"I--I don't want them," I whispered creeping closer to him. "And I never
have had any, never any one but you, Robert."
"Darling," he said, "how that pleases me!"
Of course, if I wanted to I could go on writing pages and pages of all the
lovely things we said to each other, but it would sound, even to read to
myself, such nonsense that I can't, and I couldn't make the tone of
Robert's voice, or the exquisite fascination of his ways--tender, and
adoring, and masterful.
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