She freed one hand and, reaching up, lightly stroked his cheek.
"P'r'aps, Billikins!" she said again. "But--you'll have to be awfully
patient with me, because--because--" She paused, agitatedly; then went
yet a little nearer to him. "You will be kind to me, won't you?" she
pleaded.

He put his arm about her. "Always, dear," he said.

She raised her face. She was still trembling, but her action was one of
resolute confidence. "Then let's be friends, Billikins!" she said.

It was a tacit invitation. He bent and gravely kissed her.

Her lips returned his kiss shyly, quiveringly. "You're the nicest man I
ever met, Billikins," she said. "Good-night!"

She slipped from his encircling arm and was gone.

The man stood motionless where she had left him, wondering at himself,
at her, at the whole rocking universe. She had kindled the Magic Fire
in him indeed! His whole being was aglow. And yet--and yet--she had had
her way with him. He had let her go.

Wherefore? Wherefore? The hot blood dinned in his ears. His hands
clenched. And from very deep within him the answer came. Because he
loved her.