It's as if--as if we had both had the measles."
"You can take--" began Spence, but stopped him-self. It would never
do to remind her that one may take the measles twice.
"Of course you won't believe it, not for a long time anyway," she
went on in the tone of an indulgent grand-mother, "but love is only
an episode. You are fortunate to be well over it."
Spence sighed. He hadn't intended to sigh. It just happened.
Fortunately it was the correct thing.
"I don't want to distress you," kindly, "but we were rather vague
the other night. I understood the main fact, but that is about all.
You didn't tell me what happened after."
The professor's chair, which had been tilted negligently back, came
down with a thud.
"After?" he murmured meekly. "After--?"
"I mean," prompted Desire gently, "did she marry the other man?"
"The other man? I--I don't know." The professor was willing to be
truthful while he could. But instantly he saw that it wouldn't do.
"You--don't--know?" If ever incredulity breathed in any voice it
breathed in hers. It gave our weak-kneed liar the brace that he
needed.
"No," he said sadly, "they were to have been married--I have never
heard."
"Oh! Then, of course, she did not live in your home town."
"Didn't she?" asked Spence, momentarily off guard. "Oh, I see what
you mean--no, naturally not."
"I thought that perhaps you might have been boy and girl together,"
dreamily. "It so often happens.
Pages:
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93