“What is his business?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t want to know. I am afraid he is a friend of Mr. Delessert’s,” she murmured, in a distressed way.
“I dare say.”
“Probably my—my father told him all about me, and, knowing he travelled by sea a good deal, asked him to find out what he could about me when he came in contact with you.”
“’Steban,” said Nina, with an unexpected transition from mournful curiosity to appealing tenderness, “respect is the first step to love, isn’t it?”
“Yes, birdie.”
“And I respect you.”
“I hope so.”