“Yes,” continued Switzer, “this will be a great mine. They will be wealthy some day.”
“That will be splendid,” said Jane. “You see I have only got to know them well during this visit. Nine years ago I met them in Winnipeg when I was a little girl. Of course, Kathleen was with us a great deal last winter. I got to know her well then. She is so lovely, and she is lovelier now than ever. She is so happy, you know.”
Switzer looked puzzled. “Happy? Because you are here?”
“No, no. Because of her engagement. Haven't you heard? I thought everybody knew.”
Switzer stood still in his tracks. “Her engagement?” he said in a hushed voice. “Her engagement to—to that”—he could not apparently get the word out without a great effort—“that Englishman?”
Looking at his white face and listening to his tense voice, Jane felt as if she were standing at the edge of a mine that might explode at any moment.
“Yes, to Mr. Romayne,” she said, and waited, almost holding her breath.
“It is not true!” he shouted. “It's a lie. Ha, Ha.” Switzer's laugh was full of incredulous scorn. “Engaged? And how do YOU know?” He swung fiercely upon her, his eyes glaring out of a face ghastly white.
“I am sorry I said anything, Mr. Switzer. It was not my business to speak of it,” said Jane quietly. “But I thought you knew.”
Gradually the thing seemed to reach his mind. “Your business?” he said. “What difference whose business it is? It is not true. I say it is not true. How do you know? Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.” He seized her by the arm, and at each “Tell me” shook her violently.