You are therefore a married man, and likely to continue a married man.

I cannot possibly allow you to hold my hand." His head swam for a moment.

She was very alluring with her pale face set in its clouds of golden hair, her faintly wrinkled forehead, her bewitchingly regretful smile--regretful, yet in a sense provocative.
"I am in love with you," he declared.
"Naturally," she replied.

"The question is--" She paused and looked intently at the tip of her slipper.

It was very small and very pointed and it was quite impossible to ignore the fact that she had a remarkably pretty foot and that she wore white silk stockings.