She was listening very quietly, but the look on her face was one of absorbed attention as Grémond went on.
“For several years, Madame, I had been formulating my African plans, but I lacked distinct purpose until I knew her. She had the American idea that a man must accomplish something in the world. She thought I should prove myself capable of the great things I talked about.”
“She can scarcely have reason to find fault with you now,” the woman said.
“I hope not, Madame, when she knows what I have tried to do and how much more I shall do when I return.”
“Are you going to tell her—soon?”
“Soon?” with a quick indrawing of his breath, “as soon as I can get to California, but alas! that will not be for many weeks. I am not sure that she will want to listen to me, Madame, but I shall make her; I must.”
“You met her in Europe, I fancy?”
“On the contrary, I met her in Southern California in one of the big hotels where I was stopping. She was living there and we were thrown together constantly, laughing, dancing, riding—a gay life. Now and then when we touched on serious subjects I was amazed and moved by her great comprehension and high ideals.”
“Does she not know what a powerful factor she has been in your life?” she asked.
“Not yet, Madame. I went away with my heart full of her, but said no word. I felt I had not the right on so short an acquaintance and before I had really accomplished anything.”