"Yes, you were at Waterloo Station with some one, I did not see her
face. But what does it matter now? If you had cared----" She stopped
abruptly.
"I do care," he reiterated passionately. "Heaven above knows that; but I
do not hope to make you believe me. Constance, I can give neither you
nor any living being the explanation of that awful day. But I swear to
you that the meeting was unsought by me. I could not help myself. I do
not know how all this has come about. I understood from Standon
that--that he was engaged to----"
"Muriel Branton," interrupted Constance softly. "He told me himself."
For a moment Adrien stared at her in stupefaction.
"If I had known we were at cross-purposes!" he exclaimed. "I see it all
now--when it is too late," and sinking down on the stone seat he buried
his face in his hands.
For a minute there was silence, broken at last by the rustle of Lady
Constance's dress as she came timidly towards him.
"Adrien," she murmured, very low indeed, but not so low that he did not
hear.
He looked up, gave one swift glance at her blushing face, then, with an
incoherent cry of delight, caught her in his arms.
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