There was a sharp pain at my heart, and the blood rushed into my face and then receded, leaving me deadly pale.
"Why didn't you take her?" I demanded, in a voice that did not sound in the least like mine. "It was a pity that you missed so good a chance."
He smiled faintly, as if my suppressed excitement amused him.
"Well, there were obstacles in the way," he replied, in a provokingly tranquil tone. "She had a perfect dragon of an uncle, who was her guardian. And after some months of futile love-making, we had to say a long good-bye."
"You did not tell me all this before we got engaged," said I, in my new, strange voice. "Wouldn't it have been more honourable if you had told me that you only sought me because you had failed in winning a girl you liked better?"
"It would, Louie, always supposing that I had liked the other girl better."
There was a silence, and my heart beat with quick, heavy throbs. Until now I had never known the tremendous power of jealousy that lay dormant within me. To the last day of my life I shall remember the fierce agony that rent my soul as I sat in my seat by the window, idly watching the passers-by. What did they know of my trouble? Had any of them ever tasted such a bitter cup as mine?
"Is she still unmarried?" I asked at last.
"Yes."
"What is her name?"