It is astonishing how respectful he was towards her. He treated her as a superior being to himself, and was humble and submissive to the last degree. He could not fail to observe that she looked pale and delicate, and that a settled melancholy seemed to be indelibly fixed on her thin but beautiful features.
“You have something to tell me,” she observed, languidly.
“Ahem—yes,” he stammered, not knowing very well what to say.
“In the first place, be good enough to inform me how you became first acquainted with Dr. Bourne?”
This was an awkward question—not a very agreeable one to answer—but the gipsy thought it best to tell the truth; so he made his companion acquainted with the attempted highway robbery, and all that followed after this.
“You have sunk so low as that,” she murmured, as a dark shade of sadness passed over her countenance. “Oh, but this is very dreadful!”
“I was driven to it, and bitterly regretted the act,” he returned, turning away his head. “Had I known—”
“It is of no use repining—it is done,” she interrupted; “so let that pass. Now for the rest.”
“I don’t so much regret the lawless act I was guilty of, not half so much as letting him know that I was married. He wants my marriage certificate, as I have already told you—what for I am at a loss to imagine.”
“He has a motive, and a strong one, or he would not be so importunate. I know him, and can read him like a book. Don’t give him any further information upon that or any other subject.”