He thrust out a great hand. “I must congratulate you!” he said with an overflowing enthusiasm. “I must congratulate you! I knew you’d marry some day. How long has it been?” The news appeared to furnish him with a genuine delight. Perhaps he felt more secure now, less frightened of Lily.
She shook hands with him quietly.
“Not for long.... Since three months.”
“And what is his name?”
“De Cyon ... René de Cyon. He is in the new ministry.... You see I married a politician after all.”
She laughed again in that same mysterious, half-mocking half-cynical fashion. It was impossible to penetrate the barrier of her composure. She was invulnerable. One could not hazard the faintest guess at what she was thinking.
“That is why I am here to-day.” And then for the space of an instant she betrayed herself. “Think of it,” she said. “What a long way from Cypress Hill to being the wife of a French cabinet minister. We’ve both traveled a long way since we last met, Henry. A great deal has happened to both of us. On my side, I wouldn’t change a thing. There are lives and lives, of course. Some like one sort and some another. I know you’ve been thinking what a lot I’ve missed by not marrying you.” He moved as if to interrupt her. “Oh, I know you didn’t say so openly. It’s good of you to be so generous ... to want me to have shared it.” She cast down her eyes suddenly and her voice grew more gentle although it still carried that same devilish note of raillery. “I appreciate all that.... But I wouldn’t have changed anything. I wouldn’t have married you anyway.”
Again the Governor coughed and looked out of the window.
“We all come to it sooner or later,” he said. “It’s a good thing to be married.”
“Yes ... a lonely old age isn’t pleasant.”