“I remember every one of them,” I said indignantly; and so I did.
“You will wonder why I wear it,” said Eva, quickly. “It was the first that came that terrible night. They have given me many since. But I won't wear one of them—not one!”
How her eyes flashed! I forgot all about José.
“I suppose you know why they hadn't room for you in the gig?” she went on.
“No, I don't know, and I don't care. They had room for you,” said I; “that's all I care about.” And to think she could not see I loved her!
“But do you mean to say you don't know that these—murderers—set fire to the ship?”
“No—yes! I heard you say so last night.”
“And you don't want to know what for?”
Out of politeness I protested that I did; but, as I live, all I wanted to know just then was whether my love loved me—whether she ever could—whether such happiness was possible under heaven!
“You remember all that mystery about the cargo?” she continued eagerly, her pretty lips so divinely parted!