"Y-es."
"Contempt?"
"No."
"What is it?"
"It is that—I have not yet—become—reconciled."
"To my—folly?"
"To mine."
She strove to laugh lightly, and failing, raised her glass to her lips again.
"Now you know," he said, pitching his tones still lower. "I am glad after all that we have had this plain understanding. I have never felt unkindly toward you. I can't. What you did I might have prevented had I known enough; but I cannot help it now; nor can you if you would."
"If I would," she repeated gaily—for the people opposite were staring.