“You saw them?”
“Yes. But I couldn’t step in. It was Balaam’s ass over again, with Sentiment full in the way with a drawn sword. I think—I believe I could have done it if we’d been in the dark. As it was, I was on the edge. . . . And then you landed me one—a regular stinger. . . . You said you kissed other men, and you mentioned—Pat Lafone.”
Jean nodded.
“I did it to get a rise,” she said quietly. “It—it wasn’t true.”
Oliver’s grasp tightened.
“When we were engaged,” he said, “I heard two women talking—talking of you and me. I cleared out as soon as I’d tumbled, but I’d heard a thing first that stuck. They said there was only one man on earth who could take you away from me . . . and they mentioned . . . his name.”
Jean gave a tremulous laugh.
“Good lord,” she said. “Why, I wouldn’t be seen dead with him.”
“I didn’t know that, Jean. It—it looked the other way. And—and I sort of came unbuttoned at the thought of losing you. I let out, if you remember, about ‘forbidden fruit.’ ”
“Yes,” said Jean slowly. “I remember. I never got it, of course. I couldn’t see anything except the blinding fact that you didn’t care. And . . . all the time . . . you did.”