“Do,” she urged. “But I was about to say that you have not yet wholly explained yourself.”
“I think I have told the whole story,” I said, casting my mind back over its details. “I can think of nothing that I have omitted.”
She sat for a moment looking at me, her lips parted, the color coming and going in her cheeks.
“You said some time ago,” she went on at last, “that I was concerned with this story—that it was for that reason you desired my advice.”
“Yes, that is true, mademoiselle.”
“Well, you have not yet explained to me what you meant by that, my friend.”
A sudden trembling seized me as I met her eyes.
“I thought you knew,” I began hoarsely. “I thought you guessed.”
“I am not good at guessing,” she said, looking up at me, her eyes radiant, her hands against her heart.
“I meant,” I stammered, “I meant——”