"Perhaps I am; a great deal has happened since then."
Chris seemed to be considering the point.
"Years ago," he said suddenly, "I used to flatter myself that you were rather fond of me, Marie Celeste."
She caught her breath, but made no answer, and he persisted, "You were, weren't you?"
"Yes—of course I was!" she said desperately.
"Even up to that last time you went back to Paris I thought the same," he went on. "You had a funny little way of looking at me, Marie Celeste—a way I rather liked, I remember."
"And that made you think I was desperately in love with you?" she asked, in a hard voice.
"Well, not desperately in love, perhaps, but I used to think you had a sort of sneaking affection for me—I was a conceited donkey, I suppose."
"I married you—anyway!" she said breathlessly.
"Yes, and what a marriage," he ejaculated.