“Yes,” she said very softly, without turning from the window, “It is deeper.”
With his hand on her shoulder he turned her face to him, but as he was about to draw her close he noticed a sadness in her eyes that puzzled him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked gently.
“Tell me what’s right!” she replied, as she bit the tip of her handkerchief. “I’m sure I’ll kill you when I confess—and yet, I must tell you, so you can know what I’m like.”
“What do you mean?”
“Last night I promised to marry Ted Courtney.”
Mauney stared incredulously.
“Courtney!” he stammered. “But—Freda—why?”
Her eyes, as they turned toward the window, were dry and possessed of a bitter calmness.
“I don’t understand,” Mauney said, and paused. “You promised to marry Courtney. Do you mean that?”