Summary

Portrait of Edward Everett Hale Edward Everett Hale Crusoe in New York, and other tales

I would rather by a hundred times die such a death, than know that you belonged to any other man!"
"Aucassin," replied Nicolette, "I do not believe that you love me as much as you say; but I am quite sure that I love you more than you love me."
"Never!" replied Aucassin. "Oh, my darling sweetheart! you cannot love me more than I love you. No woman can love man as man loves woman; for woman's love is in her eye, it is in the tip of her toe, and the end of her finger: but man's love is in the bottom of his heart, and so firmly does it grow there, that it can never be uprooted."
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Edward Everett Hale Edward Everett Hale Crusoe in New York, and other tales

THE WOMAN BEGAN IT.
"Did you ever notice," said Bertha, at tea one night, "that the rails still run into the paint-shop, just as when the railway people painted their cars there?"
"Why, of course I have," said Max, surprised. "They took up the frog in the avenue, but the old rails were not worth taking."
"I suppose so," said Bertha meekly. "I have been thinking," she said—"I have been wondering whether—don't you think we might—just while business is so dull, you know—have a car of our own?"
"Have a car of our own!" screamed Max, dropping knife and fork this time. "What do we want of a car?"
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Edward Everett Hale Edward Everett Hale Crusoe in New York, and other tales

And he paused.
"Why do you stop, my dear Edward? I have promised. What shall I do?"
"Dearest, you are to do nothing. Simply, you are not to ask what my daily duty is, and you are not to ask me to introduce you to my friends. It separates me less from my sunbeam than most men's cares. Without knowing it, you can help me in a thousand ways in it. But to know what it is will only bring care on you and grief on me. Can we not live, as you trust me and as I love you, without my worrying you with these petty cares?"
"Is that all?" said Psyche, with her pretty laugh.
Source: Gutenberg

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