“Good heavens—you mean——?”
“Well, what sort of man is Bibi? Was he pleased to find me here?”
“You mean that you are afraid,—you want to go?”
Brent slogged the head off a nail.
“Damn!—I never thought you would think that! What the devil do I care what happens to me? But what I do care about——”
She caught her breath with a little breathless exclamation that was almost like a cry of pain.
“Oh, it’s like that? I understand—you will forgive me, mon ami?”
He looked down at her with eyes that had a queer shine in them.
“If you will forgive me for swearing!”
Brent went on with the work. It was the obvious thing to do, and it was a screen behind which he could hide, for Brent was one of those men who became absurdly shy in the presence of emotion. He hammered away with indefatigable ferocity, ignoring Manon who was stroking her chin with two fingers and looking at something that was a long way off.