THE UNSPEAKABLE GENTLEMAN
are sorry. Mademoiselle, you disappoint me."
"Yes," said Mademoiselle, "I heard the story, and I believe she was to blame, not you. After all, she took you for better or worse."
And then a strange thing happened. In spite of himself he started. His face flushed, and his lips pressed tight together. It seemed almost as though a spasm of pain had seized him, which he could not conceal in spite of his best efforts. With an unconscious motion, he grasped his wine glass and the color ebbed from his cheeks.
"Mademoiselle is mistaken," said my father. "Another wine glass, Brutus." The stem of the one he was holding had snapped in his hand.
"Nonsense," said Mademoiselle shortly.
My father cleared his throat, and glanced restlessly away, his face still set and still lined with the trace of suffering.
"Mademoiselle," he said finally, "you deal with a subject which is still painful. Pray excuse me if I do not discuss it. Anything which you may have heard of my affairs is entirely a fault of mine. You understand?"
"Yes," said Mademoiselle, "I under-
[160]
