"I did," he declared, proudly. "And if you had been the woman I took you for, you could have had him."
"But suppose I—didn't want him?"
"Oh, don't tell me that," he said, pityingly. "Why shouldn't you want him?—just as much as he'd want you?"
"Well, I'll put it that way if you like. Suppose he didn't want me?"
"Then the more fool he. I picked you out for him on purpose."
"May I ask why?"
"Certainly. I saw he was getting on in life, and, as he'd been a good many years a widower, I imagined he'd had some difficulty in getting any one to have him. If he's good-looking, he's not what you'd call very bright; and he's got a temper like—well, I won't say what. I'd pity the woman who got him, that's all; and so—"
"And so you thought you'd pity me."
"I did pity you as it was. It seemed to me you couldn't be worse off, not even if you married Derek Pruyn."
"It was certainly good of you to give me the opportunity; and if I had only known—"