“Why not?”
“Because he believes everything you tell him; because it never once enters his mind that you would find it worth your while to torment him. If he lets you alone, he expects you to do the same by him.”
St. Jacques made no answer. With his dark eyes fixed on the broad river at his right hand, he marched steadily along by Nancy’s side until the quaint little roadside cross of temperance was far behind them. Then he said abruptly,—
“Miss Howard, I wish I knew just how well you like that fellow.”
Nancy’s thoughts, like her steps, had lain parallel to his. She responded now without hesitation,—
“I wish I knew, myself; but I don’t.”
For an instant, St. Jacques removed his eyes from the river. He smiled, as he moved them back again.
Nancy’s next words showed that her mind had taken a backward leap.
“You said you were walking to tire yourself?” she said interrogatively.
“Yes. Am I also tiring you?” St. Jacques answered, with instant courtesy.