We shall forget all this. There shall be
nothing to remind us."
De Barral moved his shoulders.
"I should think you were mad to tie yourself to . . . How long is it
since you are married?"
She answered "Not long" that being the only answer she dared to make.
Everything was so different from what she imagined it would be. He
wanted to know why she had said nothing of it in any of her letters; in
her last letter. She said:
"It was after."
"So recently!" he wondered. "Couldn't you wait at least till I came out?
You could have told me; asked me; consulted me! Let me see--"
She shook her head negatively. And he was appalled. He thought to
himself: Who can he be? Some miserable, silly youth without a penny. Or
perhaps some scoundrel? Without making any expressive movement he wrung
his loosely-clasped hands till the joints cracked. He looked at her. She
was pretty. Some low scoundrel who will cast her off. Some plausible
vagabond . . . "You couldn't wait--eh?"
Again she made a slight negative sign.
"Why not? What was the hurry?" She cast down her eyes.
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