Part 30 (1/2)
”Of your estates?” inquired Denise.
”No. I never cared for the estate; I do not care for it now.”
”Then it is of ... some one?”
Lory did not answer at once.
”I shall have to go back to Corsica,” he said at length, ”as soon as I can move--in a few days.”
Denise glanced at him with angry eyes.
”I was told that story,” she said, ”but did not believe it.”
De Va.s.selot turned and looked at her, but could not see her averted face.
His eyes were suddenly fierce. He was a fighter--of a fighting stock--and he instantly perceived that he was called upon at this moment to fight for the happiness of his whole life. He put out his hand and deliberately took hold of the skirt of her dress. She should not run away at all events. He twisted the soft material round his half-disabled fingers.
”What story?” he asked quietly.
Denise's eyes flashed, and then suddenly grew gentle. She did not quite know whether she was furious or afraid.
”That there was some one in the Chateau de Va.s.selot to whom--whom you loved.”
”It is you that I love, mademoiselle,” he answered sharply, with a ring in his voice, which came as a surprise to both of them, and which she never forgot all her life. ”No. Do not go. You are pulling on my injured arm and I shall not let go.”
Denise sat still, silent and at bay.
”Then who was in the chateau?” she asked at last.
”I cannot tell you.”
”If it is as you say--about me--and--I ask you not to go to Corsica?”
”I must go.”
”Why?” asked Denise, with a dangerous quiet in her voice.
”I cannot tell you.”
”Then you expect a great deal.”
De Va.s.selot slowly untwined his fingers and drew in his arm.
”True,” he said reflectively. ”I must ask nothing or too much. I asked more than you can give, mademoiselle.”
A faint smile flickered across Denise's eyes. Who was he, to say how much a woman can give? She was free to go now, but did not move.
”With Corsica and--” she paused and glanced at his helpless att.i.tude in the long chair,--”and the war, your life is surely sufficiently occupied as it is,” she said coldly.
”But these evil times will pa.s.s. The war will cease, and then one may think of being happy. So long as there is war, I must of course fight--fight--fight, while there is a France to fight for.”