"It is nothing to do with me," she said.
He looked amusedly into her eyes. "I know. It's about Viviette. Confess."
"Yes," she replied soberly, "it's about Viviette."
"You've seen it. I make no bones about it. You can believe the very worst. I have fallen utterly and hopelessly in love with her. I am at your mercy."
This beginning was not quite what Katherine had expected. In his confident way he had taken matters out of her hands. She had not anticipated a down-right confession. She felt conscious of a little dull and wholly reprehensible ache at her heart. She sighed.
"Aren't you pleased, Katherine?" he asked with a man's selfishness.
"I suppose I must be--for your sake. But I must also sigh a little. I knew you would be falling in love sooner or later--only I hoped it would be later. But _que veux-tu?_ It is the doom of all such friendships."
"I don't see anything like a doom about it, my dear," said he. "The friendship will continue. Viviette loves you dearly."
She took up a peach from a dish to her hand, regarded it for a moment, absent-mindedly, and delicately replaced it.
"Our friendship will continue, of course. But the particular essence of it, the little sentimentality of ownership, will be gone, won't it?"