“I believed it.”
“You believed that?”
“What else could I believe?”
“It was a mere pretence. Tinteniac knew too well what manner of man Croquart was.”
She told him the whole truth, and Bertrand watched her even as he had watched when she had swept past Carro de Bodegat to set him free. The bonds then had been bonds upon the flesh. Now she was breaking the spiritual fetters that had been riveted so fast about his soul.
“Tiphaïne, it is enough.”
The simplicity of those few words showed her how deep a loyalty had suffered here in silence. Woman that she was, she realized the completeness of his self-abnegation, and honored him the more because he had not grudged his faith to her when he had no hope of a reward.
“Bertrand, come near to me. Do you believe that I have told you the whole truth?”
He looked at her, silent yet very happy.
“I believe whatever you may say to me.”