Perhaps you do not know
it, but you are. Search your heart, my friend, and tell me--do
you want my love?"
Well, there was no need to search my heart, she had laid it open.
I hated myself then; and I turned away, unable to meet her eyes,
as I said:
"Bon Dieu!" she cried. "That is an ugly speech, monsieur!" And
she laughed aloud.
"But we must not awaken Harry," she continued with sudden
softness. "What a boy he is--and what a man! Ah, he knows what it
is to love!"
That topic suited me little better, but I followed her. We
talked of Harry, Le Mire with an amount of enthusiasm that
surprised me. Suddenly she stopped abruptly and announced that
she was hungry.
I found Harry's pantry after a few minutes' search and took some
of its contents to Desiree. Then I returned to the edge of the
water and ate my portion alone. That meal was one scarcely
calculated for the pleasures of companionship or conviviality.
It was several hours after that before Harry awoke, the greater
part of which Desiree and I were silent.
I would have given something to have known her thoughts; my own
were not very pleasant. It is always a disagreeable thing to
discover that some one else knows you better than you know
yourself.
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