“No,” he answered. He started when she touched him, for he was given to starting of late.
“It reminds me of that happy night when you asked me if I would be your wife. I had two proposals that night.” Barbara laughed as she spoke. “Before you said those words which made me the happiest girl in the world Dr. Tarbot had spoken of his love. We were on the balcony just outside the drawing-room in Mark Place. The light was subdued—something like this—Dr. Tarbot spoke with great and strange passion. I see his face even now, and the queer look in his eyes when I refused him. All the time he was speaking I could not help thinking that I hated him more each moment. I left him on the balcony and went into the drawing-room. Then you met me and we strolled together to the conservatories. Do you remember, Dick?”
“Yes,” he answered.
“Do you remember the scent of that rose? It was a Gloire de Dijon. You touched it with your fingers as you spoke.”
“Yes,” he replied again, and now he stretched out his hands and clasped one of hers, holding it in a warm pressure. “I am the luckiest fellow in the world,” he said, “but I wish to heaven I could——”
“You could do what?” she answered.
“Get rid of that suspicion or—or verify it.”
“Dick dear!” said Barbara in her most soothing voice. She slipped nearer to him. “I have changed my mind. We had better have this thing out. What do you want to verify?”
Pelham looked at her steadily.
“Do you really wish to know at last?” he said.