“I’ll go. But he is kind of cute. There was something in Jonathan's manner, as he issued this command, that struck the man as singular, and he afterwards recalled it. Love lives on a higher plane. Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared. If I let you believe I did not love you, and they found me, your shame would be negligible. A doubt as to your dinner to-morrow would make you miserable to-night. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her. The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out.
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