"By Jove, it's uncanny!" Magda remained motionless, still staring at him with those long dark eyes of hers.

He noticed that just at the outer corners they slanted upwards a little, giving her small, thin face a curiously Eastern look.
At last-- "Please kiss me, Saint Michael," she said.
For a moment he hesitated, a half-rueful, half-whimsical smile on his lips, rather as though he were laughing at himself.

Then, with a shrug of his shoulders, he stooped quickly and kissed her.
"Witch-child!" he muttered as he strode away through the woods..