He paused and looked at me. Of course I was attending, if that was what he meant!
—“also as a possible son-in-law, what was I to do?”
I said nothing. Of course he could do nothing but accept such a bride with enthusiasm; but why apologize to me?
“I realized,” he went on, “that I might offend him to the verge of breaking off the other deal. I explained to you at our first interview here that I’d had no intention of getting married?”
(Had. Then he’d fallen in love with her later.)
“Last Easter, which we spent at Dinard with the Charriers,” he went on, “I—we all were on the most friendly terms with Mademoiselle Charrier—”
I clenched my hands together; they were feeling, on that August afternoon, cold as ice.
—“And she was soon quite confidential to me,” continued the Governor. “Told me lots of things about herself, just like a child—”
(A minx! That assumed frankness!)
—“told me, even, of her own understanding with a young airman who was over there then. A secret from her people—you know what these French parents are—but I don’t suppose it’s a secret any longer now this is all up.”