Bruno abruptly paused, showing himself to be ill at ease. Just then a little leaf falling, irresolutely, from a branch, at last reached the ground. Sidonie’s eyes followed its course. A question came to her lips, but she dared not ask it. At the same time Bruno was wondering if he had not said too much. He did not wish to compromise Catherine; but confession is good for the soul, and he could not resist the impulse to give utterance to his pent-up feelings.
“Well, she kissed me twice, and then I knew——”
Again he paused. But an instant afterward he said: “She went away, leaving me all the fish.”
“She was always a little bold, I think,” observed Sidonie, wiping her eyes.
“No, do not say that. Would you not have done the same had I saved your life?”
“Yes,” admitted poor Sidonie to herself.
“But,” pursued Bruno, “it would have been far better for me had she simply thanked me.”
“You realize it, Bruno?”
“Yes, for from that time I have been wretched.”
“But she is married.”