“I am supposed to be dead,” he said with a kind of unwilling abruptness.
Manon put a slice of corned beef upon his plate.
“A good man has reasons.”
He raised his eyes to hers.
“A good man?—Well—perhaps! You see—I made a mess of life over there in England. I do not mean to go back.”
Manon’s eyes held his.
“You wish to become a Frenchman?”
Brent smiled one of those human and half-whimsical smiles.
“Perhaps—I want to make a fresh start. I’m not the sort of man who makes money; I’m too easy-going. I have always liked the things that you can’t buy.”
“I know what you mean,” said Manon. “One can’t buy happiness, can one?”