"We met at a watering-place unknown to each other, people of the world, adventurers, if you will, and between us sprang up one of those flirtations which are so far removed from genuine affection that the two never exist together. We called it love—perhaps thought it so—for a brief time; for I confess to a sentiment regarding you which no ordinary person could have inspired."
The woman lifted her eyes at his softened voice, and with an expression that must have gone to his soul; never in my life had I seen so much gratitude in a glance.
"But this was not love!"
The white hand dropped away from his arm; he grasped the other tighter, as if to impress his words more forcibly on her.
"I never did love you, Mrs. Dennison. Such expressions as are admitted in society, without real meaning, I may have used, and you perhaps construed them into deeper significance than they possessed. I—"
Mrs. Dennison lifted her two hands with impatient deprecation.
"Enough, enough!" she said; "more words are useless; I comprehend you."
"And hold me blameless, I trust?"
"Blameless? Oh, yes!" There was bitter whiteness on her lips, and her eyes flashed fiercely.
The sneer relieved him. There had been something of compassion, even of regret, in his voice till then; but the curl of her lips drove all such feeling away.