“You're a bad boy,” I smiled, “and I can see young girls are not as safe with you as I thought.”
“I couldn't help it,” he stammered. “Your hands smelt so delightful.” His voice shook a little and he seemed most contrite. “But you're not angry, are you?” he asked.
“Of course, I'm not,” I said. “After all,” I laughed, “what is a kiss on the hand in this country? It's only politeness, isn't it?”
“But it wasn't just politeness with me,” he said with his voice more unsteady than ever. “It meant far more than that,” and, taking courage, as I intended him to from the smiling way in which I was regarding him, he suddenly reached out and, pulling me to him, kissed me full upon the mouth. It was a warm and passionate kiss and by no means a short one. Then for a few moments he stopped to lift up h
