“I made everything that I am wearing—­except the shoes and stockings.  But they are perfectly new....  I wanted to come to you—­perfectly new.  There was a Valerie who didn’t really love you.  She thought she did, but she didn’t....  So I left her behind when I came—­left everything about her behind me.  I am all new, Louis....  Are you afraid to love me?”

He drew her closer; she turned, partly, and put both arms around his neck, and their lips touched and clung.

Then, a little pale, she drew away from him, a vague smile tremulous on her lips.  The confused sweetness of her eyes held him breathless with their enchantment; the faint fragrance of her dazed him.

In silence she bent her head, remained curbed, motionless for a few moments, then slowly lifted her eyes to his.

“How much do you want me, Louis?”

“You know.”

“Enough to—­give me up?”

His lips stiffened and refused at first, then: 

“Yes,” they motioned.  And she saw the word they formed.

“I knew it,” she breathed; “I only wanted to hear you say it again....  I don’t know why I’m crying;—­do you?...  What a perfect ninny a girl can be when she tries to.... All over your ’collar, too....  And now you’re what Mr. Mantalini would call ‘demned moist and unpleasant!’ ...  I—­I don’t want to—­s-sob—­this way!  I do-don’t wish to ...  M-make me stop, Louis!...  I’d like a handkerchief—­anything—­give me Gladys and I’ll staunch my tears on her!”

She slipped from the bed’s edge to the floor, and stood with her back toward him.  Then she glanced sideways at the mirror to inspect her nose.

“Thank goodness that isn’t red,” she said gaily....  “Kelly, I’m hungry....  I’ve fasted since dawn—­on this day—­because I wanted to break bread with you on the first day of our new life together.”

He looked at her, appalled, but she laughed and went into the studio.  There was a beautiful old sideboard there always well stocked.

He turned on the lights, brought peaches and melons and strawberries and milk from the ice-chest, and found her already preparing chocolate over the electric grill and buttering immense slices of peasant bread.

“It’s after two o’clock,” she said, delighted.  “Isn’t this divinely silly?  I wonder if there happens to be any salad in the ice-chest?”

“Cold chicken, too,” he nodded, watching her set the table.

She glanced at him over her shoulder from time to time: 

“Louis, are you going to enjoy all this? All of it? 
You—­somehow—­don’t look entirely happy—­”

“I am....  All I wanted was to see you—­hear your voice....  I shall be contented now.”

“With just a view of me, and the sound of my voice?”

“You know there is—­nothing more for us.”

“I know nothing of the kind.  The idea!  And don’t you dare struggle and kick and scream when I kiss you.  Do you hear me, Louis?”