“Miss Schlegel and myself.” he asked, compressing his lips.
“I trust there has been no misunderstanding,” quavered Mrs. Munt. “Her letter certainly read that way.”
“What way?”
“That you and she—” She paused, then drooped her eyelids.
“I think I catch your meaning,” he said stickily. “What an extraordinary mistake!”
“Then you didn’t the least—” she stammered, getting blood-red in the face, and wishing she had never been born.
“Scarcely, as I am already engaged to another lady.” There was a moment’s silence, and then he caught his breath and exploded with, “Oh, good God! Don’t tell me it’s some silliness of Paul’s.”
“But you are Paul.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why did you say so at the station?”