"Aw, Mr. Hochenheimer, I ain't got thorns."

Out from the velvet shadows his face came closer. "It's thorns to me,
Miss Renie, because you're so pretty and sweet, and--and seem so far
away from a--plain fellow like me."

"I--"

"I'm a plain man, Miss Renie, and I don't know how to talk much about
the things I feel inside of me; but--but I _feel_, all-righty."

"Looks ain't everything."

"I tell you, Miss Renie, now since I can afford it, I just don't seem to
know how to do the things I got the feeling inside of me for. Even in my
grand house sometimes I feel like it--it's too late for me to live like
I feel."

"Nothing's ever too late, Mr. Hochenheimer."

"Just since I met you I can feel that way, Miss Renie, if you'll excuse
me for saying it--just since I met you."

"Me?"

"For the first time in my life, Miss Renie, I got the feeling from a
girl that, for me, life--maybe my life--is just beginning. Like a vine,
Miss Renie, you got yourself tangled round my feelings."