"Why, don't you know, dear, that your mother is better able to take care
of herself than you are? She's bigger and stronger. You--you're a little
white flower, that I want to wear on my heart."

"Leo--give me time. Let me think."

"A thousand thinks, Alma, but I love you. I love you and want so
terribly for you to love me back."

"I--do."

"Then tell me with kisses."

Again she pressed him to arm's length.

"Please, Leo! Not yet. Let me think. Just one day. To-morrow."

"No, no! Now!"

"To-morrow."

"When?"

"Evening."

"No, morning."

"All right, Leo--to-morrow morning--"