Francis was swept beyond himself. He caught her and pressed her to him in a crushing embrace.
“ And on your very wedding day,” she gasped reproachfully in the midmost of his embrace.
His arm died away from about her.
“ And this from you, Leoncia, at such a moment,” he murmured sadly.
“ And why not?” she flared. “You loved me. You gave me to understand, beyond all chance of misunderstanding, that you loved me; yet here, to-day, you went out of your way, went eagerly and gladly, and married yourself to the first woman with a white skin who presented herself.”
“ You are jealous,” he charged, and knew a heart-throb of joy as she nodded. “And I grant you are jealous; but at the same time, exercising the woman’s prerogative of lying, you are lying now. What I did, was not done eagerly n
