are in love. And you say you are in love with me."
"Oh, with you!" I exclaimed with suppressed violence. The effort to suppress this violence cost me pounds of nerve-power. But I kept my hands still quietly folded and my feet crossed, and it was a triumph of self-control. "I want you to marry me," I added despairingly.
"And you think," he inquired, "that apart from the opinion of the wise world, it would be a suitable marriage?"
"A suitable marriage!" I exclaimed. "I hate a suitable marriage! No, it would not be suitable. It would be Bohemian, outlandish, adorable!"
The Devil smiled.
This time the smile was for me. And, oh, the long, old, overpowering enchantment of the smile of steel-gray eyes!—the steel-gray eyes of the Devil!
It is one of those things that one remembers.
"You are a beautifully frank, little
