“He never told me—never hinted such a thing.”
“Did he ever tell you he was not married?”
“Certainly not.” Beatrice laughed aloud. “I never told him I was not married.”
“You say you asked him to marry you?”
“Yes—I did.”
“And you say he refused?”
“He refused absolutely. He laughed at the idea that I really cared for him. If you could have heard, father! That’s why it’d be unjust for you to blame him. It was every bit my fault.”
“Why did he refuse to marry you?” her father asked calmly.
“Because he did not care, I suppose—care enough.”
“What reason did he give?”