"That's what I call work; but it is worth it.
Now!" Gretchen saw that it would be futile to hold him off longer; what she would not give he would of a surety take.

So she put her hands behind her back, closed her eyes, and raised her chin.

He kissed not only the lovely mouth, but the eyes and cheeks and hair.
"Gretchen, you are as good and beautiful as an angel." "What are angels like ?" "An angel is the most beautiful woman a poet can describe or imagine." "Then there are no men angels ?" "Only Gabriel; at least I never heard of any other." "Then I do not want to be an angel.

I had rather be what I am.

Besides, angels do not have tempers; they do not long for things they should not have; they have no sweethearts." She caught him roughly by the arms.
"Ah, if anything should happen to you, I should die! It seems as though I had a hundred hearts and that they had all melted into one for love of you.