There are certain occasions which justify certain actions. I thought
this was one.
Then I said: "Tell me about Lotzen's visit with you in the North."
"He was there a week."
"More's the pity," said I.
"For him--yes."
"For him?" I echoed.
She nodded. "I feel very sorry for Ferdinand." Then she blushed. "I
think he does love me, Armand."
"I can't blame him for that," said I. "He's a queer sort if he
doesn't."
"Foolish!" she laughed, giving me a little tap with her fan. "And you
see, dear, he might have had a chance if you had not come."
I bent down until her hair brushed my face.
"And he has none now, sweetheart?" I said softly.
"You know that he has not."
"And does he know it?"
"Yes--he knows it--now. I told him the day he left."
I was beginning to understand Lotzen's sudden change of demeanor toward
me.
"What did you tell him, little woman?" I asked.
She looked up with a bright smile.
"See how I've spoiled you," she said.
"Then, spoil me just a little more," I urged.
"Well--I told him it was you," she whispered.
The understanding was growing rapidly.
"And what did he say to that?"
"I know, Armand, you don't like him; and, there, you may do him an
injustice.
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