"Yes—and how did you know it?"
"Perry Thomas saw you that night when you went to stay a minute."
The color left Tim's face and he leaned back in his chair, away from the light into the shadow, and whistled softly.
"You knew it, then," he said, after a long while. "I didn't intend you should, Mark. I didn't intend you ever should."
"Naturally," said I in an icy tone.
"Naturally," said he. His face came into the light again, and he leaned there on the table, watching me as earnestly as ever.
"Naturally," he said again. "I was going away, Mark, never to bother you nor her. Did I know then that you loved her? Had you ever told me? Was I to blame for that moment when I knew I loved the girl and that she loved me?"
"No. I never told you—that's true," I said.
"And yet I knew you cared for her, Mark. I could see that. I saw it all those nights when you would leave me to go plodding up the hill. That's why I went away."
"Why did you go away?" I cried. "You went to see the world and make money——"