"And you are pleased too, dear," she said to Giles.
"Very pleased," he replied, with emphasis, whereat she laughed.
"I know why you are pleased," she said, in answer to his look. "Olga told me how deeply she was in love with you.
But her cure was as quick as her disease was virulent.
She never would have harmed me, my dear.
Olga was always fond of me—and of you."
Giles flushed and laughed.
"Well, it's all over now," he said, "and I am glad she is married.
But let us talk about yourself.
Are you happy after all your troubles, dearest?"
"Very happy, Giles.
I regret nothing.
Portia, thanks to you, is in a good home.
But my poor father——"
"Don't call Denham that, Anne," he said, with a frown.
She kissed it away.
"He was always very good to me," she said. "I tried to save him, as you know.
I believed that he had killed Daisy by some mistake.
But really, Giles, I did not stop to think.
I knew that my—I mean Denham—was in danger of his life, and I could not rest until I had placed him in safety."
"And you defended him afterwards, Anne—that time we met in the churchyard.
You quite endorsed his story of the invented Walter Franklin."
"Don't reproach me, Giles.
I had promised Denham to say what I did; and not even for your dear sake could I break my word.
He was a good man in many ways; but, as you say yourself, it is all over.
Let us forget him and his tragic end."
"And Morley's."
Anne shivered.
"He was the worst. Oh, what a terrible time I had on board that boat, when I found he was deceiving me.
I thought he was taking me to Denham, and I wanted to see what he—I mean Denham—would say to my mother's statement.
I thought he might be able to show that he was not so bad as she——"
"Not another word," said Ware, taking her in his arms. "Let us leave the old bad past alone, and live in the present.
See"—he took a parcel out of his pocket—"I have had this made for you."
Anne opened the package, and found therein the coin of Edward VII. set as a brooch and surrounded by brilliants.
"Oh, how delightful!" she said, with a true woman's appreciation of pretty things.
"It is the dearest thing in the world to me, save you, Anne," he said. "Twice that coin brought me to you.
But for it I should never have been by your side now."
"No!"
She kissed the coin again and fastened it at her throat, where it glittered a pretty, odd ornament.
"You waste your kisses," cried Giles, and took her to his breast.