The question was a sneer, but it was there, all the same; she had had to ask it. And now her whole being hung trembling on the answer, though she was no less grimly resolved than before to have done with a man whom she could not trust. But now he did not reply; and that burning urge of curiosity made Caroline go on—against better judgment, intention, pride: "Does she know?"
He released Caroline's arm at once and walked on. "Let us leave her out of the discussion," he said stiffly. "I was just about to tell you that our engagement is broken off."
But Caroline could not understand—any more than the majority of women—the feeling which makes a decent man reluctant to discuss an old love with a new one, and she was now easily able to speak as coldly as she wished. "I've heard that piece of news," she said.
He turned sharp round. "Why, who told you? It only happened last night."
"Miss Laura told me," she answered.
"What more did she tell you?" he asked quickly.
"Nothing."
He looked away from her to the sea without replying, and this was her chance to walk away, if she had wished; but there was still that question which she must have answered.
"Has Miss Laura heard anything about us? Was that why the engagement was broken off?"
He waited a moment. "No," he said. "After all, you have a right to know that you had nothing to do with it. Nothing. She had never heard a word about you and me until I told her myself; and that was after our engagement was broken off."