“There were none in the room at the time. No, he absolutely declined to tell me—said it was enough for me that he knew. I don’t know who it could be.”
“It may have been M. Vogorides,” mused Cecil. “Charlie, have you ever made an enemy of him or of M. Karalampi?”
“Would you have me make a friend of either of them?” he inquired.
“Well, there is a kind of distant civility you might employ towards them.”
“Not towards them, that is just it, any more than towards a snake, except with something between—bars or glass or something of that sort. I cannot stand these Levantines. There is something picturesque and romantic about a Jew, even if he does try to cheat you; and as for the Arabs and Turks, it makes you quite sorry to know the trouble they take to get the better of you, when you see through them all the time. But those Greeks, ugh!”
“That sounds as though you objected to them because they were clever enough to be able to cheat you,” said Cecil. “But if this is the way you regard them, no doubt you have hurt M. Vogorides’ feelings at some time or other, and he has tried to revenge himself on you by telling Sir Dugald. But do take care of yourself, Charlie. What should I do if anything happened to you?”
“I think you would do much better without me,” broke out Charlie. “I see that I ought never to have asked you to marry me, Cecil, such a heedless fool as I am, and I also see that I ought to give you up now, instead of worrying you with my misfortunes. I really mean it.”
“Happily, the decision doesn’t lie with you,” said Cecil. “Why, what a fair-weather friend you must think me, Charlie! Have I deserved it? Have I ever seemed worried by your misfortunes? I should have thought I had felt them too much for such a word to be applicable.”
“You are an angel,” said Charlie, and kissed her.
“I have only this to say,” went on Cecil, freeing herself. “You may give me up if you like, but I decline entirely to give you up. If you wish me to go through life in the ridiculous position of a girl engaged to a man who doesn’t consider himself engaged to her, I must bear it, I suppose.”