She had a way of shaking her head, that was very pretty,—­a way that might, one would think, have been dangerous at her age, as likely to betray those first grey hairs which will come to disturb the last days of youth.  He had once told her in sport to be more careful.  She now shook her head again, and, as he smiled, she told him that she could still dare to be careless.  There are a thousand little silly softnesses which are pretty and endearing between acknowledged lovers, with which no woman would like to dispense, to which even men who are in love submit sometimes with delight; but which in other circumstances would be vulgar,—­and to the woman distasteful.  There are closenesses and sweet approaches, smiles and nods and pleasant winkings, whispers, innuendoes and hints, little...