“Now—also”—and he spoke with a sense of effort—“I am glad—that you have chosen for yourself a man who in these rough times can give you honor and strength—things precious to a woman.”
He made a brave uttering of these words, trying not to betray to her anything of the thoughts that were in his heart. There was a questioning wonder in Tiphaïne’s eyes. Only at that moment did she remember the part that the Sieur de Tinteniac had played.
“Bertrand!”
He looked at her sharply, for her voice had startled him.
“I had forgotten that you had followed us from Josselin. You often watched us with Croquart—was that not so?”
“Yes, I was always on the watch.”
“And perhaps you were near enough to hear some chance words.”
He flushed like an eavesdropper discovered in a seeming meanness.
“I was near you—” he began, “because—”
She broke in on him as though she had read his thoughts. “You believed that I was the Sieur de Tinteniac’s wife?”