She interposed, with a gesture of protest: “I’m not responsible for Owen’s ravings!”
“Of course——”. He broke off and they stood facing each other. She lifted a hand and pushed back her loose lock with the gesture that was burnt into his memory; then she looked about her and dropped into the nearest chair.
“Well, you’ve got what you wanted,” she said.
“What do you mean by what I wanted?”
“My engagement’s broken—you heard me say so.”
“Why do you say that’s what I wanted? All I wished, from the beginning, was to advise you, to help you as best I could——”
“That’s what you’ve done,” she rejoined. “You’ve convinced me that it’s best I shouldn’t marry him.”
Darrow broke into a despairing laugh. “At the very moment when you’d convinced me to the contrary!”
“Had I?” Her smile flickered up. “Well, I really believed it till you showed me ... warned me...”
“Warned you?”