“It means intense vanity, though,” said he, roughly.
“And why not vanity, any less than courage or compassion, or a dozen other things one prides himself on having?”
“I think you are saying these things to vex me, Kate. I’ll swear you don’t feel them.”
“No matter what I feel, Sir. I am certainly vain enough to believe I can keep that for myself. Tell me of this man. Have you seen him?”
“No, he has not come; he will not come.”
“Not come! And why?”
“Here’s a letter from Cane will explain it all; a letter which I suppose you would not have let me read had you seen it first. You said you had no secrets, but it turns out that you had.”
“What do you mean?” said she, snatching the letter eagerly from him.
“I read every word of it three times. I know it almost by heart,” said he, as he watched her running her eyes over the letter.
“When I said I had no secrets,” said she, gravely, “I meant with regard to my past life. Of that assuredly I have told you all, freely and candidly. The future is my own, at least so far as what I intend by it.”