at do you
wear them for? So that I can take them off?"

He did it slowly. Each hand was like a flower unsheathed, and when he
had kissed her fingers and her palms he looked up and saw a face made
tragic by sudden knowledge of passion. Her eyes were dark with it and
her mouth had shaped itself for his.

"Helen--!"

"I know--I know--"

"And there's nothing to say."

"It doesn't matter--doesn't matter--" His head was on her knees and her
hands stroked his hair. He heard her whispering: "What soft hair! It's
like a baby's." She laughed. "So soft! No, no. Stay there. I want to
stroke it."

"But I want to see you. I haven't seen you since I kissed you. And
you're more beautiful. I love you more--" He rose, and would not see the
persuasion of her arms. "Ah, dear, dearest one, forget I love you. You
are too young and too beautiful for me, Desire."

"But I shall soon be old. You don't want to wait until I'm old."

"I don't want to wait at all."

"And I'm twenty, Zebedee."

"Twenty! Well, Heaven bless you for it," he said and swung the hand she
held out to him.

"And this is true," she said.

"It is."

"And I never thought it would be. I was afraid Miriam was loving you."

"But," he said, still swinging, "I was never in any danger of loving
Miriam."

She shook her head. "I couldn't have let her be unhappy."

"And me?"

She gave him an illuminating smile. "You're just myself. It doesn't
matter if one hurts oneself."

"Ah!" He bent her fingers and straightened them. "How small they are. I
could break them--funny things. So you'd marry me to Miriam if she
wanted me. That isn't altogether satisfactory, my dear. To be
you--that's perfect, but treat me more kindly than you treat yourself."

"Just the same--it must be. Swing my hand again. I like it." She went on
in a low voice. "All the time, I've been thinking she would come
between."

"She can't now."

She looked up, troubled, and begged, "Don't say so. Sometimes she's just
like a bat, flying into one's face. Only more lovely, and I can't be
angry with her."

"I could. But let's talk about you and me, how much we love each other,
and how nice we are."

"We do, don't we?"

"We are, aren't we?"

"Oh, how silly!"

"Let's be sillier than any one has ever been before."

"Listen!" Helen said and Zebedee stopped on his way to her.

"It's that woman. Why didn't something run over her? Is my hair
ruffled?"

"Come quickly and let me smooth it. Nice ha