“She’s here with me now ... in Paris,” continued the Governor. “She’d never been abroad. I thought she would enjoy the sights, too, so I brought her along.”
“Is she here to-day?” asked Lily. Again the Governor betrayed signs of an overwhelming confusion.
“Yes,” he said, “Yes.” And suddenly became silent.
For a moment Lily watched him as if the sight of his confusion provided her with some secret amusement. At length she said, “I’d like to see her. I don’t ask to meet her, of course. That would be questionable taste. Besides, why should we meet? We could mean nothing to each other.”
“No, perhaps not.”
Again he began staring out of the window. Lily glanced at the watch on her wrist.
“I shall be forced to leave soon myself,” she said. “My husband will be waiting for me.”
With a start her companion turned from the window toward her.
“So you’re married,” he said. “And you never told me.”
“You never asked me about myself. I didn’t think you were interested in what my life had been.”