It was between an exclamation and an inquiry. Bending forward, Olga awaited the reply as if her life depended upon it.
"I am fond of no one—in that sense."
Irene's look was so fearless, her countenance so tranquil in its candour, that the agitated girl grew quieter.
"It isn't because you are thinking of someone else that you can't marry Mr. Jacks?"
"I am thinking simply of myself. I am afraid to marry him. No thought of the kind you mean has entered my head."
"But how will it be explained to everybody?"
"By telling the truth—always the best way out of a difficulty. I shall take all the blame on myself, as I ought."
"And you will live on here, just as usual, seeing people——?"
"No, I don't think I could do that. Most likely I shall go for a time to Paris."
Olga's relief expressed itself in a sigh.