"Enough's as good as a feast. What do you mean by calling me wretch, Madam!" she added marching up to Mrs. ” “Shall we go now?” “I think I would like to listen to music. ” She laid her hand softly upon his. At the same time he comprehended that she was as pure and lovely as the white orchid of Borneo and that she did not carry that ridiculous shield called false modesty. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. It is like a second honeymoon. They then took off their boots, and crept stealthily up stairs, treading upon the point of their toes so cautiously, that not a board creaked beneath their weight.
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