She was silent a moment, then she said:
"And when's the wedding to be?"
"Soon," he said, dreamily; "as soon as possible. It's a secret. I mean our engagement."
She looked up sharply.
"Oh, it isn't in the papers or known yet?"
He shook his head.
"No, no. We've reasons for keeping it quiet for a little while."
"But you came and told me," she said, broodingly. "Well, it was straight and kind of you, as I said, and—and I'm much obliged."
He put out his hand to her in acknowledgment. She looked at it for a moment as if she doubted whether she would take it; then she put her own into it, and hers burned like a red-hot coal.
She took it away instantly, and rose and walked slowly up to the table, poured out a couple of glasses of champagne, and brought him one and raised the other to her lips.