“You seemed—seemed to dislike him,” I said. “I never understood——”
She took me up quickly. “Nor did I. Don’t let’s talk about it—not yet, Dante.”
So I told her about my doings, the book I was writing and the little daily round at Woadley; and then I told her of why I had quarreled with my father.
“But he let me marry Halloway, and you’ve never——”
I laughed. “Ah, but no matter what Halloway did as a bachelor, he was discreet when it came to marriage.”
She drew me forward to the light; doubt was in her eyes. “But you—you’re unhappy too.”
“I’ve gained everything I played for; I played to lose.”
“Everything?”
“I didn’t deserve Vi. And I didn’t deserve you; if I had, I shouldn’t have lost you.”
Not until I had replied did she realize how much she had told me. She was not happy! I wanted to ask her questions, so many questions—questions which I had no right to ask, nor she to answer.