He fancied the laugh disdainful, and thought so the more when she seemed to detect his suspicion and tried to allay it by an alteration of tone.
“I mean exactly that,” he said.
She bit her red lip, and Cartaret noted that her teeth were even and white.
“Forgive me,” she begged.
She put out her hand so frankly that he would have forgiven her anything. He took the hand and, as it nestled softer than any satin in his, he felt his heart hammer in his breast.
“Forgive me,” she was repeating.
“I hope you’ll forgive me,” he muttered. “At any rate, you can’t forget me: you’ll have to remember me as the greatest boor you ever met.”
She shook her head.
“It was I that was foolish.”
“Oh, but it wasn’t! I——”