She turned her face more fully to his. "How grim you look, darling! You
haven't kissed me for quite five minutes."

"I feel more like whipping you," he said, grimly.

She leapt in his arms as if he had been about to put his words into
action. "Oh, no!" she cried. "No, you wouldn't beat me, Billikins.
You--you wouldn't, dear, would you?" Her great eyes, dilated and
imploring, gazed into his for a long desperate second ere she gave
herself back to him with a sobbing laugh. "You're not in earnest, of
course. I'm silly to listen to you. Do kiss me, darling, and not
frighten me anymore!"

He held her close, but still he did not comply with her request. "Did
this Silvester ever kiss you?" he asked.

She shook her head vehemently, hiding her face.

"Look at me!" he said.

"No, Billikins!" she protested.

"Then tell me the truth!" he said.

"He kissed me--once, Billikins," came in distressed accents from his
shoulder.

"And you?" Merryon's words sounded clipped and cold.

She shivered. "I ran right away to you. I--I didn't feel safe any more."