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"I prefer," explained the girl, "to be loved decorously. I do not care to be pawed or
clawed or crumpled. After we have been married for fifteen or twenty years and
are really well acquainted--"
"Possibly you will permit me to kiss you," Bince finished for her.
"
Don't be silly, Harold," she retorted. "You have kissed me so much now that my
hair is all down, and my face must be a sight. Lips are what you are supposed to
kiss with--you don't have to kiss with your hands."
"
Possibly I was a little bit rough. I am sorry," apologized the young man. "But
when a fellow has just been told by the sweetest girl in the world that she will
marry him, it's enough to make him a little bit crazy."
"Not at all," rejoined Miss Compton. "We should never forget the stratum of
society to which we belong, and what we owe to the maintenance of the position
we hold. My father has always impressed upon me the fact that gentlemen or
gentlewomen are always gentle-folk under any and all circumstances and
conditions. I distinctly recall his remark about one of his friends, whom he greatly
admired, to this effect: that he always got drunk like a gentleman. Therefore we
should do everything as gentle-folk should do things, and when we make love we
should make love like gentlefolk, and not like hod-carriers or cavemen."
"Yes," said the young man; "I'll try to remember."
It was a little after nine o'clock when Harold Bince arose to leave.
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