“I shan't mind if you don't," he agreed. "But I'll not let you go, Prudence. Til not pester you, but know this: I will wait until you choose to listen to your heart." "Pshaw." It was a feeble effort. She took a deep breath and tried again. "Humbug! How can you presume to know my heart?" He smiled a slow, devastating smile. "You are my heart." He lifted her hand and kissed it. "And our hearts beat in tune. I know it—I, who used not to believe in such things. And you know it.”
Book:The Perfect Rake