“Well, why not? She’ll have to know.”
“Know what?” she cried indignantly.
“That we’re engaged.”
She brightened angrily. After all, he was thinking of that night and she felt a new, exasperated respect for him. “But I told you—I told you I didn’t mean anything when I let you—when we were alone in that car.”
“I wasn’t thinking of that,” he said, and she felt a drop. He had no business not to think of it.
“Then what do you mean?” she asked coldly.
“I’ve been engaged to you,” he said, “for a long time. I told you. But I’ve been thinking that it really doesn’t work.”
“Of course it doesn’t. Anybody would have known that except you, Charles Batty.”
“Yes, but nobody tells me things. I have to find them out.” He sighed. “It takes time. But now I know.”
“Very well. You’re released from the engagement you made all by yourself. I had nothing to do with it.”