“He told me last night.”
“I don’t mean that; when did he propose to Miss Marston?”
“During the week-end—on Saturday evening, I think.”
“Saturday evening!” she repeated it—“Saturday evening!” Then he had been engaged to this other girl on Monday night when he had kissed her. He had loved her then, he had meant that kiss; she was certain of it. And to April, as earlier to Mrs. Whately, this treachery seemed capable of explanation only by a marriage for money. It was unworthy of Roland. She could hardly imagine him doing it. But he might be in debt. People did funny things when they were in debt.
“Is she pretty, this Miss Marston?”
That was her next question, and Ralph replied that he thought she was.
“But you’ve never seen her?”
“Roland told you she was pretty. Did he say anything else about her?”
“No, hardly anything.”