“‘No,’ says she, ‘so far as I’m concerned it’s commenced. To tell you the truth, it’s been a bit too serious up to now to please me. I’m only just beginning to enjoy myself,’ and she laughed, quite her old light-hearted laugh.
“‘You seem to be a bit more cheerful,’ I says.
“‘I’m feeling it,’ says she; ‘he’s not as bad as I thought. We went to Versailles yesterday.’
“‘Pretty place, Versailles,’ says I; ‘paths a bit complicated if you don’t know your way among ’em.’
“‘They do wind,’ says she.
“‘And there he told you that he loved you, and explained everything?’
“‘You’re quite right,’ says she, ‘that’s just what happened. And then he kissed
me for the first and last time, and now he’s on his way to America.’
“‘On his way to America?’ says I, stopping still in the middle of the street.
“‘To find his wife,’ she says. ‘He’s pretty well ashamed of himself for not having tried to do it before. I gave him one or two hints how to set about it—he’s not over smart—and I’ve got an idea he will discover her.’ She dropped her joking manner, and gave my arm a little squeeze. She’d have flirted with her own grandfather—that’s my opinion of her.