She was looking at Norman with eyes large and grave. "And what did you say?" he inquired.
"I didn't say anything. I looked at him as if he weren't there and started on. Then he said, 'When Norman abandons you, as he soon will, you can count on me, if you need a friend.'"
There was a pause. Then Norman said, "And that was all?"
"Yes," replied she.
Another pause. Norman said musingly: "Poor Tetlow! I've not seen him since he went away to Bermuda—at least he said he was going there. One day he sent the firm a formal letter of resignation. . . . Poor Tetlow! Do you regret not having married him?"
"I couldn't marry a man I didn't love." She looked at him with sweet friendly eyes. "I couldn't even marry you, much as I like you."
Norman laughed—a dismal attempt at ease and raillery.
"When he told me about your marrying," she went on, "I knew how I felt about you. For I was not a bit jealous. Why haven't you ever said anything about it?"
He disregarded this. He leaned forward and with curious deliberateness took her hand. She let it lie gently in his. He put his arm round her and drew her close to him. She did not resist. He kissed her upturned face, kissed her upon the lips. She remained passive, looking at him with calm eyes.
"Kiss me," he said.