“I think you know that I will not annoy you. Won’t you tell me, Joan?”
“I—I don’t see why I should. Remember, I have no wish to continue our—our acquaintance; there is no reason you should know.”
“Yet if I knew I would be happier. I would not trouble you.”
“Surely it does not matter. I am living in the country, then—in Kent, at Starden. I—I have come into a little money.” She looked at him keenly. She wondered did he know, had he known that night when he had told her that he loved her?
“I am glad of it,” he said. “I could have wished you had come into a great deal.”
“I have!” she said quietly.
“I am truly glad,” he said. “It was one of the things that troubled me most, the thought of you—you forced to go out into the world to earn your living, you who are so fine and exquisite and sensitive, being brought into contact with the ugly things of life. I am glad that you are saved that—it lightens my heart too, Joan.”
“Why?”
“Haven’t I told you? I hated the thought of you having to work for such a man as Slotman. I am thankful you are freed from any such need.”
She had wronged him by that thought, she was glad to realise it. He had not known, then.