"I don't believe it," said Ransom; and his scepticism seemed none the less complete because it was light and smiling.
"She is much happier now—she can afford not to mind you."
"Not to mind me? That's a nice inducement for a gentleman to go and see a lady!"
"Well, she will be more gracious, because she feels now that she is more successful."
"You mean because she has brought you out? Oh, I have no doubt that has cleared the air for her immensely, and you have improved her very much. But I have got a charming impression out here, and I have no wish to put another—which won't be charming, anyhow you arrange it—on top of it."
"Well, she will be sure to know you have been round here, at any rate," Verena rejoined.
"How will she know, unless you tell her?"
"I tell her everything," said the girl; and now as soon as she had spoken, she blushed. He stood before her, tracing a figure on the mosaic pavement with his cane, conscious that in a moment they had become more intimate. They were discussing their affairs, which had nothing to do with the heroic symbols that surrounded them; but their affairs had suddenly grown so serious that there was no want of decency in their lingering there for the purpose. The implication that his visit might remain as a secret between them made them both feel it differently. To ask her to keep it so would have been, as it seemed to Ransom, a liberty, and, moreover, he didn't care so much as that; but if she were to prefer to do so such a preference would only make him consider the more that his expedition had been a success.
"Oh, then, you can tell her this!" he said in a moment.
"If I shouldn't, it would be the first——" And Verena checked herself.