when he first saw me on the stage; so you see it is as if we were meant
for each other. From the moment I gave him my promise, I promised myself
that the old work should be given up for ever: Raoul's _fiancée_,
Raoul's wife, should not be the tool of diplomatists. Besides, as he's a
Frenchman, his wife would owe loyalty to France, which Maxine de Renzie
never owed. I wanted--oh, how much I wanted--to be only what Raoul
believed me, just a simple, true-hearted woman, with nothing to hide. It
made me sick to think that there was one thing I must always conceal
from him, but I did the best I could. I vowed to myself that I'd break
with the past, and I wrote a letter to the British Foreign Secretary,
who has always been a good friend of mine. I said I was engaged, and
hoped to begin my life all over again in a different way, though he
might be sure that I'd know how to keep his secrets as well as my own.
Oh, Ivor, to think that was hardly more than a week ago! I was happy
then. I feel twenty years older now."

"A week ago. You've been engaged only a week?" I broke in.

"Not many days more. I guessed, I hoped, long ago that Raoul cared, but
he wouldn't have told me, even the day he did tell, if he hadn't lost
his head a little. He hadn't meant to speak, it seems, for he's poor,
and he thought he had no right. But what's a man worth who doesn't lose
his head when he loves a woman? I adored him for it. We decided not to
let anyone know until a few weeks before we could marry, as I didn't
care to have my engagement gossipped about, for months on end. There
were reasons why--more than one: but the man of all others whom I didn't
want to know the truth found out, or, rather, suspected what had
happened, the very day when Raoul and I came to an understanding--Count
Godensky of the Russian Embassy. He called, and was let in by mistake
while Raoul was with me, and, just as he must have seen by our faces