'I must not let you kiss me, William,' she said, 'not - not for all in
the world. I'm sure you wouldn't have me do what I think is wrong
- would you?'
There was but one answer to such an appeal, and I made myself as
happy as possible feeling her head upon my shoulder and her soft
hair touching my cheek. As I think of it now the trust she put in me
was something sublime and holy.
'Then I shall talk about - about our love,' I said, 'I must do
something.'
'Promised I wouldn't let you,' she said. Then she added after a
moment of silence, 'I'll tell you what you may do - tell me what is
your ideal in a woman - the one you would love best of all. I don't
think that would be wicked - do you?'
'I think God would forgive that,' I said. 'She must be tall and slim,
with dainty feet and hands, and a pair of big eyes, blue as a violet,
shaded with long dark lashes. And her hair must be wavy and light
with a little tinge of gold in it. And her cheek must have the pink
of the rose and dimples that show in laughter.
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