"But how did you know it was thrown over by Miss Vaughan?"
"That was an easy guess," I said, sparring feebly. "Who else would attempt to conduct a surreptitious correspondence with a handsome young man?"
But he did not smile; the look of intensity in his eyes deepened.
"Come, Mr. Lester," he protested, "don't play with me. I have a right to know the truth."
"What right?" I queried.
He paused an instant, as though nerving himself to speak, as though asking himself how much he should tell me. Then he came toward me impulsively.
"Miss Vaughan and I are engaged to be married," he said. "Some persons may tell you that the engagement has been broken off; more than once, I have offered to release her, but she refuses to be released. We love each other."
The word "love" is a difficult one for us Anglo-Saxons to pronounce; the voice in which Swain uttered it brought me to my feet, with outstretched hand.
"If there's anything I can do for you, my boy," I said, "tell me."
"Thank you, Mr. Lester," and he returned my clasp. "You have done a great deal already in giving me this letter so promptly. The only other thing you can do is to permit me to stay here until to-night."