“Where did you go when you left me?”
“To Paris.”
“I know. I followed you.”
She started. “But you didn’t see me?”
He kept her in suspense, while he groped after the reason for her excitement. “No. I didn’t see you. Whom were you with?”
“Fluffy.”
“Any one else?”
“Yes.” She caught at his hands, as though already he had made a sign to leave her. “I didn’t know he was to be there.”
“Ah!” He knew whom she meant: the man with whom she had flirted in California and whom a strange chance had led to her hotel in Paris. He would have withdrawn his arm if she had not held it.
“But none of this explains your leaving me and then not writing.”