For a moment Cobb stood with a perplexed expression, and gazed intently at her; the name had startled him. She raised her face, and met his gaze, then, blushing, dropped her eyes to the floor.
“You do not answer, Mr. Cobb?” she ventured. “Are you displeased at meeting me?”
Recovering himself in a moment, he quickly returned:
“Pardon me. My thoughts were far away.”
“Not very complimentary to me,” with a merry laugh. “But, then, if you will tell me of whom you were thinking, and her name, for I know it must be a woman, I will forgive your ungallantry,” with bewitching naiveté.
“Marie Colchis,” he slowly answered, with his thoughts still far away.
“How funny! almost my own name. Now you have aroused my curiosity. Who is this divinity that can hold your thoughts so enthralled when I am near?” and again she laughed as she emphasized the pronoun.
“She was my affianced wife!”
The words came as if from the depths of his heart.
Marie Colchester saw she had touched a tender chord in his memory. Casting aside all semblance of levity, she approached him and laid her white, small hand upon his arm.