He turned quickly, with something of a start, and met Stephanie's intimate little smile.
"I found it so," he replied, taking her hand.
She laughed softly—the beautifully modulated laugh that Pendleton loved, and that had rung in his ears for many years.
"You were not looking at the prospect, my friend—confess it," she said.
"I was not," he admitted.
"You were thinking of—me; of the trouble I have been—and am—and always shall be. Were you not, Montague?"
"No! I was not. I was trying to think of some way to help you out of your trouble."
"And wishing I had never—come back!"
"You know better than that!" he smiled.
"Because there isn't any way to help me out of the trouble," she went on. "I've got to take my punishment."