So he kissed the little mole on the back as well. Curious that he should take so little, when his heart cried out for so much! His head was swimming. He felt nothing, saw nothing but her presence. “I wouldn’t have let you do that once,” she whispered. In the long silence that followed, the snow-laden trees shivered, muttering their suspense. Each time he tried to meet her eyes, she looked away as though his glance scorched her. “My dear! My dearest!” She did not answer. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. I can’t live without you. You’re more to me than anything in the world.” “Don’t say that” Her voice trembled. “It’s terrible to love people so much; you give them such power to hurt you. I might die, or I might love some one else, or----” “But you don’t--you wouldn’t.” His arm stole about her neck. Like a child fondling a child, he tried to coax her face towards him. He yearned, as if his soul depended on it, to rest his lips on hers. She smiled, closing her eyes in denial. As he leant out, she turned her face swiftly aside. He kissed her where the little false curl quivered. “Oh, Meester Deek, why must you kiss me? Where’s the good of it? Can’t we be just friends?” “All my life I’ve loved you,” he pleaded hoarsely. “Doesn’t it mean anything to you? Care for me a little--only a little, Desire. Say you do, and I’ll be content.” “I’m not good,” she whispered humbly. “You don’t know anything about me; and yet you’ve seen what I am. My friends are all so gay; I like them to be gay. And I want to be an actress; and I live for clothes and vanities. You’d soon get sick of me if we married.--Dear Meester Deek, please let’s be as we were. I’ve tried to spare you because I don’t love you so as to marry you. I couldn’t give up my way of living even for you. I never could love you as you deserve.” “But you do love me,” he urged. “Look at the way we’ve gone about together. I’ve never tired you, have I? If I had, you wouldn’t have wanted to see me so much. You must love me, Desire.” Then, in a voice which was scarcely above a breath, “I would ask so little if you married me.” “You dear fellow!” She laid her cool cheek against his, trying to give comfort for what she had done. Their bodies grew hushed, listen-ing for each other. The wood, with its snow-paved aisles and arcades of twisted turnings, became a white cathedral in, which their hearts beat as one and worshiped. “You do love me, Princess.” “I’m cold,” she whispered mournfully. “I’m trying to feel what I ought to be feeling, but I can’t. I’m disappointed. God left something out when He made me. If only you weren’t so fine, but---- My dear, you’re better than any man I ever met. I couldn’t be good the way you are, and I’m ashamed to be worse. Sometimes I’m almost bitter against you for your goodness. My beautiful mother.--I’m all she has. And there’s your family. I haven’t any. I’ve missed so much. Surely you under-stand?”