u did--again!"

"Did I?" insinuatingly.

"How dare you ask that? You----"

"'Brute' again? Quite like old married folk!"

"Old married folk? They never kiss!"

"Don't they?"

"Not each other!... other people's husbands or wives!"

"Is that it?"

"Surely----

'Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife,
He would have written sonnets all his life?'

O no! not he!"

"I'm learning many new things, Opal! Let's play we're married, then--to
someone else!"

"But--haven't you any conscience at all?"

"Conscience?--what a question! Of course I have!"

"You certainly aren't using it to-night!"

"I'm too busy! Kiss me!"

"The very idea!"

"Please!"

"Certainly not!"

"Then let me kiss you!"

_"No!!!"_

"Why not?--Don't you like to be loved?"

And his arms closed around her, and his lips found hers again, and held
them.

At last, "Silly Boy!"

"Why?"

"Oh! to make such a terrible fuss about something he doesn't really
want, and will be sorry he has after he gets it!"

And Paul asked her wickedly, what foolish boy she was talking about now?
_He_ knew what he really wanted--always--and was not sorry when he had
it. Not he! He was sorry only for the good things he had let slip, never
for those he had taken!

"But--do let me go, Paul! I don't belong to you!"

"Yes you do--for a little while!" He held her close.

Belong to him! How she thrilled at the thought! Was this what it meant
to be--loved? And _did_ she belong to him--if only, as he said, for a
little while? She certainly didn't belong to herself! Whatever this
madness that had suddenly taken possession of her, it was stronger than
herself. She couldn't control it--she didn't even want to! At all
events, she was _living_ to-night! Her blood was rushing madly through
her body. She was deliciously, thoroughly alive!

"Paul!--are you listening?"

"Yes, dear!" the answer strangely muffled.

And then she purred in his ear, all the time caressing his cheek with
her small white fingers: "You see, Paul, I knew I had made some sort of
impression upon you. I must have done so or you wouldn't have--done
that! But any girl can make an impression on shipboard, and an affair at
sea is always so--evanescent, that no one expects it to last more than
a week. I don't want to make such a transitory impression upon you,
Paul. I wanted you to remember me longer. I wanted--oh, I wanted to give
you something to remember that was just a little bit