“So you told me last night.”
“Did I? I had forgotten.”
“You said an old friend had died—and that you were in love with his daughter.”
“Really? I was quite frank, wasn’t I?” Her reference to Marie exasperated him.
“Don’t be cross.” She came up close to him and put her hand upon his shoulder.
“I am not going to kiss you,” said Paul, anticipating her.
“I haven’t asked you to, have I?”
“No; but I’m going to marry Ma—Hanaré’s daughter.”
“There! I knew you had something like that in your mind! You look so—so determined,” she laughed, in spite of her obvious vexation.