"Mr. Benham, do you not recognise the lady?"
Jasper did not look at De Rothan. The sudden heat of his angry humiliation was too bitter and too fierce in him. His eyes fixed themselves on Nance's shoes; nor had he a word to say.
"Come, Mr. Benham, come—are you not pleased?"
There was a sneer in De Rothan's voice, and it stung Nance to the quick. A sudden great pity carried her away. Jasper was humbled before her and before his enemy, and this shame of his transfigured all that was uncouth and ridiculous. It was she who felt humiliated and sneered at.
She turned on De Rothan.
"I understand now. I did not understand before."
He shrugged his shoulders, but the scorn and anger in her eyes stung him.
"My child, this is what we call romance. You do not seem to appreciate the opportunities I am giving you. No mere humdrum, thread-and-needle experiences——"
She regarded him steadily, thoughtfully, and then turned to Jasper.
"It sounds so empty to say that I am sorry."