She raised her eye-brows in polite surprise.
“I thought you had requested ten minutes private speech with me.”
“I did,” said Armand, “but I withdraw the request; explanations are vain, when one has been already judged, and judged unheard.”
“One who is taken red-handed can have no explanation that explains,” said she.
Then, of a sudden, out flashed the adorable smile, and she laughed, and flung him the white rose.
“There, dear,” she said, “there, is your pardon—now, come,” and she held out both hands; “come and forgive me for this afternoon.”
And when he had forgiven her, she put him in a chair and perched herself on the arm beside him.
“Tell me, Armand,” she said, “are we never to be free of that awful woman?—where did she come from?—how did she happen to be at the Inn?”
“And how did I happen to be with her there, you want to know,” he laughed.
She nodded. “That more than all—yet I didn’t ask it.”