"He recognized me," she said.
"Ah!" Bertrand's exclamation was deep in his throat, like the growl of an angry dog. "And he said—?"
Chris hesitated.
Instantly his manner changed. He stretched out a quick hand. "Pardon my impatience! You will tell me what he said?"
Yet still she hesitated. His impetuosity had warned her to go warily if she would not have him embroiling himself in another quarrel for her sake.
"It doesn't matter much, does it?" she said, rather wearily. "I wasn't with him very long—no longer than I could help. He was objectionable, of course, but that sort of man couldn't be anything else, could he?"
"Tell me what he said," insisted Bertrand inexorably.
But still she hedged, trying to temper his wrath. "He didn't tell me anything new. I have known—for some time now—why you fought that duel."
"Ah! You know that? But how?"
She smiled wanly. "You forget I'm growing up, Bertie."