“Not unless you want to,” David answered, from the other side of the dial, which he gripped with fingers that were suddenly shaking.
“The man of whom I spoke to you, so long ago,” Gabrielle said, presently, “I saw again—this spring.”
“I see,” David said, with a nod, as she paused. “He did not marry the other woman, then?”
“What other woman?” the girl demanded, amazed.
“I thought you said that he had cared for another woman?”
“Ah——? Ah, yes, so he had. No, he didn’t marry her. He is—quite free,” said Gabrielle, working busily.
“You’re very sure you care for him, dear?” David said, already relegated, in his own mind, to the sphere of the advisory, loving older brother.
“Yes,” she said, with another upraised look. “I am sure. I have never felt for anybody else what I do for him, and I know now I never shall. When I first saw him—more than two years ago——”
“You saw him first then?”
“Well, I had seen him as a child. But after I got home from Paris I saw him again,” the girl offered, lucidly.