"I have been out," she admitted. "I do not think, Capitaine Rotherby, that I must tell you where I have been, but I went to the one place where I thought that I might have news of him."
"You brought back with you a companion."
"No, not a companion," she interposed gently. "You must not think that, Capitaine Rotherby. He was just a person who—who had to come. You are not cross with me," she asked, lifting her eyes a little timidly to mine, "that there are some things which I do not tell you?"
"No, I am not cross!" I answered slowly. "Only, if you felt it possible," I added, "to give me your entire confidence, it seems to me that it would be better. I will ask you to believe," I continued, "that I am not merely a curious person. I am—well, more than a little interested."
She held out both her hands and raised her eyes to mine. Through the filmy lace of her veil I could see that they were very soft, almost as though tears were gathering there.
"Oh! I do believe you, Capitaine Rotherby," she said, "and I would be very, very happy if I could tell you now all the things which trouble me, all the things which I do not understand! But I may not. I may not—just now."
"Whenever you choose," I answered, "I shall be ready to hear. Whenever you need my services, they are yours."
"You do trust me a little, then?" she asked quickly.
"Implicitly!" I answered.
"You do not mind," she continued, "that I tell you once more that I am going out, and that I must go out alone?"