"Here I am then," she said, "and you may kiss me. And if you will ask me
I'll kiss you; only I don't particularly want to, you know. I don't think
of you in the very least as a man to be kissed. I've thought of other men
much more in that way--oh, only thought of them, Mr. Quisante!"
The playful, yet not meaningless, defiance of a softer mood, and of his
power to induce it in her, acted as a spark to Quisante's ardour. It was
just the opposition that he had wanted to rescue him from awkwardness. He
recovered the splendid intensity which had marked his declaration on Duty
Hill. If he did not succeed in changing her feelings, at least he set her
wondering why they did not change and wrung from her the smiling
admission, "You're very picturesque anyhow." She did not deny vehemently
when he told her that he would make her love him as he loved her. "Well,
I never use the word impossible about you," she said. "Only--it hasn't
happened yet, you know." She paused and added, with a touch of reviving
apprehension, "And I mayn't always like you to behave as if it
had--though I don't mind much to-night.
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