“Don’t worry about me,” he said; “I am not the one to be considered. I am thinking of you.”
They had been skimming the surface, but those words of Brent’s went down beneath the conventional crust.
“Mon ami, you are very unselfish.”
“It’s not that. A man has to think of things—other things than bricks and timber; and when there is a woman about, a man has to think of her.”
Manon was silent for a while, and in her heart of hearts she knew that Paul was right. She had used her intuition and her shrewdness to bring the adventure into sympathy with this man’s simple sense of honour, and now that the thing was done she felt that Paul was happier.
“What a good man you are!”
He smiled at her and said nothing.
“You think of others before yourself. And how exciting it will be when I drive over and see what you have done; each time there will be something fresh, a new piece of roof, a door, a window.”
“It will be just as exciting to me—the finest game I ever played in my life.”
She frowned a little over that word.