"Oh, yes," said Derrick, hesitatingly. "Of course, it would be better if
one could buy it on the spot."
"That is so," she agreed. There was silence for awhile, then she said
slowly, "Are you content to remain here--Mr. Dene?"
It was the first time she had addressed him by his name, and she did so
with an hesitation that Derrick attributed to her uncertainty of the
pronunciation.
"Well, I am as content as I should be anywhere out of England," he said,
with a candour compelled by her kindness.
She glanced at him with an earnest regard, and said softly, but
suddenly, "It means that you have left your heart there?"
Derrick coloured and lit another cigarette. Again, he felt as if he were
obliged to open his heart to this sorrowful, sympathetic woman.
"That is so," he said, gravely.
"You have no father or mother," she murmured, her eyes downcast; "then
it must be the girl you love--a sweetheart?"
Derrick nodded.
"Yes, it's a girl I love," he said, with a thrill as he made the
confession, and was impressed by the spoken words with the depths of his
love for that girl. "Oh, don't misunderstand! It's true that I--love
her; but she doesn't love me; it's all on my side, she doesn't even know
that I care for her. You'll be surprised to hear that I saw her only
once in my life, and then only for a few minutes."
"That is the Spanish way of loving, not the English," she said, with a
long breath like a sigh, as she looked at him. "No; I am not surprised.
Love is a strange thing, Derrick--pardon!--Mr. Dene; and it comes
sometimes, more often than not with the people of my nation, at first
sight. Will you think me curious, if I ask her name?"
"Not at all. I don't know it," said Derrick, with a grim laugh.
She looked at him with surprise in her mournful eyes.
"Oh, look here!" said Derrick, more to himself than to the listener
whose sympathy affected him strangely and forced his confidence. "I've
got to tell you everything, if you care to hear it. You are so clever,
'cute--I beg your Excellency's pardon!--that you will have guessed, as
old Bloxford guessed, that I had good reason, or, rather, bad, for
leaving England; besides, I hinted it the other night. I'll tell you
what that is, if you care to hear it."