"Not at all," said Betty, who was, rather.
"Well, then I met Him again, and we got engaged again, as he told you. And again there was a girl--oh, and another woman besides. But this time I tried to bear it--you know I did try not to be jealous of you."
"You had no cause," said Betty.
"Well, I thought I had. That hurts just as much. And what's the end of it all--all my patience and trying not to see things, and letting him have his own way? He came to me to-night and begged me to release him from his engagement, because--oh, he was beautifully candid--because he meant to marry you."
Betty's heart gave a jump.
"He seems to have been very sure of me," she said loftily.
"No, no; he's not a hairdresser's apprentice--to tell one woman that he's sure of another. He said: 'I mean to marry Miss Desmond if she'll have me.'"
"How kind of him!"
"I wish you'd heard the way he spoke of you."
"I don't want to hear."
"I had to. And I've released him. And now I've come to you. I was proud two years ago. I'm not proud now. I don't care what I do. I'll kneel down at your feet and pray to you as if you were God not to take him away from me. And if you love him it'll all be no good. I know that."
"But--supposing I weren't here--do you think you could get him back?"
"I know I could. Unless of course you were to tell him I'd been here to-night. I should have no chance after that--naturally. I wish I knew what to say to you. You're very young; you'll find someone else, a better man. He's not a good man. There's a girl at Montmartre at this very moment--a girl he's set up in a restaurant. He goes to see her. You'd never stand that sort of thing. I know the sort of girl you are. And you're quite right. But I've got beyond that. I don't care what he is, I don't care what he does. I understand him. I can make allowances for him. I'm his real mate. I could make him happy. You never would--you're too good. Ever since I first met him I've thought of nothing else, cared for nothing else. If he whistled to me I'd give up everything else, everything, and follow him barefoot round the world."
"I heard someone say that in a play once," said Betty musing.