"Of course," said Julius, calmly, "I imagined he was just proposing to you."
"Yes," said Leonora, in a low voice, "he was."
"I wish he had been at the bottom of the sea," said Julius, fiercely.
Indeed, the idea disgusted him, being as much in love as he was. Nevertheless, he thought she was a singular woman to refer to the thing,—so very soon. He had at first expected that she would never wish to mention her husband to him; at least, not for very long; but she seemed rather to seek the subject than to avoid it. He mused for a moment, looking out under his half-closed lids, as was his habit when he was thinking. Suddenly a smile came into his face.
"Do you remember, dear, when you and he raced me in the boat on the bay, one afternoon, ever so long ago?" It was not much more than six weeks.
"Yes—perfectly," said she. "Why?"
"Have you any idea where I was going?" asked Julius, laughing a little.
"Not the least. You were not going anywhere; you were out for a row, I suppose, because you wanted the air." She looked a little puzzled.
"If you had not overtaken me, I should never have seen you again," he said, looking at her affectionately.
"What do you mean?" she asked, rather startled.