I should like to kiss you." But I do not allow her to kiss me.

Never again.
"Seer Marcous, let us go to the little horses." She has a consuming passion for _petits chevaux_.

I speak sagely of the evils of gambling.

She laughs.

I weakly take lower ground.
"What is the good?
You have no money." "Oh-h! But only two francs," she says, holding out her hand.
"Not one.