Could she guess it was my choice because she had always raved over old gold and crushed strawberry, at one time all the fashion?
“I do not change,” I said, quite grandiloquently.
She sighed—doubtless she believed she had good reason to think otherwise.
We remained for some little time silent, each engrossed in deep thought.
Following out the train of thought that was passing through my head, I muttered, finally:
“It was very strange.”
“What is it you refer to, Morgan?” she asked, idly, her hands clasping and unclasping as they lay in her lap.
I saw a plain gold band on the third finger of her left hand—a wedding ring, perhaps put there in place of mine.
“To think I should not have seen that fellow at the alcalde’s, or heard his voice, which I could have told among a thousand.”
“Why, Morgan, how you astonish me—how can it be possible you remember these things when——”