"Spies," he said briefly.
A flushed and tearful Sara Lee stood up then and looked up at him gravely.
"Then--that is what you do?"
"Yes, mademoiselle."
Quite suddenly she went to him and held up her face.
"Please kiss me, Henri," she said very simply. "I have been cruel and
stupid, and--"
But he had her in his arms then, and he drew her close as though he
would never let her go. He was one great burst of joy, poor Henri. But
when she gently freed herself at last it was to deliver what seemed for
a time his death wound.
"You have paid me a great tribute," she said, still simply and gravely.
"I wanted you to kiss me, because of what you said. But that will have
to be all, Henri dear."
"All?" he said blankly.
"You haven't forgotten, have you? I--I am engaged to somebody else."
Henri stood still, swaying a little.
"And you love him? More than you care for me?"
"He is--he is my kind," said Sara Lee rather pitifully. "I am not what
you think me. You see me here, doing what you think is good work, and
you are grateful. And you don't see any other women. So I--"
"And you think I love you because I see no one else?" he demanded, still
rather stunned.
Pages:
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185