Voice and look embarrassed him. So did the girl’s proximity; she was now all but leaning on his shoulder. Respectable Mr. Barmby could not be aware that Jessica’s state of mind rendered her scarcely responsible for what she said or did.
‘That’s a very plain question,’ he began; but she interrupted him.
‘I oughtn’t to ask it. There’s no need for you to answer. I know you have wanted to marry her for a long time. But you never will.’
‘Perhaps not—if she has promised somebody else.’
‘If I tell you—will you be kind to me?’
‘Kind?’
‘I didn’t mean that,’ she added hurriedly. ‘I mean—will you understand that I felt it a duty? I oughtn’t to tell a secret; but it’s a secret that oughtn’t to be kept. Will you understand that I did it out of—out of friendship for you, and because I thought it right?’
‘Oh, certainly. After going so far, you had better tell me and have done with it.’
Jessica approached her lips to his ear, and whispered:
‘She is married.’