Please, go slowly." "-- Marry me ?" "Abel, I don't believe you love me!" she said, and began to sob.
"Answer me and I'll show you." "I didn't think you'd be so cruel--when---" "When?
Remember I've stopped playing, Molly." "When you know I'm simply dying for you," she responded.
He smiled at her without moving.

"Then answer my question, and there's no drawing back this time remember." "The question you asked me?
Repeat it, please." "I've said it three times already, and that's enough." "Must I put it into words?
Oh Abel, can't you see it ?" Lifting her chin, he laughed softly as he stooped and kissed her.
"I've seen it several times before, darling.

Now I want it put into words--just plain ones." "Then, Mr.Abel Revercomb," she returned demurely, "I should like very much to marry you, if you have no objection." The next instant her mockery fled, and in one of those spells of sadness, which seemed so alien to her, and yet so much a part of her, she clung to him, sobbing.
"Abel, I love you so, be good to me," she entreated.
"Good to you!" he exclaimed, crushing her to him.
"Oh, those dreadful days since we quarrelled!" "Why did you do it, darling, since you suffered as well as I ?" "I can't tell--there's something in me like that, I don't know what it is--but we'll quarrel again after this, I suppose." "Then we deserve to be punished and I hope we shall be." "How will that help?
It's just life and we can't make it different." She drew gently away from him, while a clairvoyance wiser than her years saddened her features.

"I wonder if love ever lasts ?" she whispered half to herself.
But there was no room in his more practical mind for the question.

"Ours will, sweetheart--how can you doubt it?
Haven't I loved you for the last ten years, not counting the odd days ?" "And in all those years you kissed me once, while in the last five minutes you've kissed me--how many times?
You are wasteful, Abel." "And you're a dreadful little witch--not a woman." "I suppose I am, and a nice girl wouldn't talk like this.