speak yet! Let me explain my plan. There's time still.
You're thinking of Brian before yourself, maybe. But he's safe. The
Becketts adore him. They say he 'saved their reason.' He makes the
mysticism they're always groping for seem real as their daily bread. He
puts local colour into the fourth dimension for them! They can never do
without Brian again. All that's needed is for him to propose to Dierdre.
I know--you think he won't, no matter how he feels. But he'll have
missed her while he's away. She's a missable little thing to any one who
likes her, and she can tempt him to speak out in spite of himself when
he gets back. I'll see to it that she does. The Becketts will be
enchanted. The old lady's a born match-maker. We can announce our
engagement at the same time. While they think Jim's dead, they won't
grudge your being happy with another man, especially with me. They're
fond of me! And you're young. Your life's before you. They're too
generous to stand in your way. They look on you as a daughter, and Brian
as a son. They'll give each of you a handsome wedding present, and I
don't doubt they'll ask Brian to live with them, or near them, if he's
to be blind all his life. He'll have everything you wanted to win for
him. Even when they get into communication with Jim, and find out the
truth about you, why I bet anything they'll hide it from Brian to keep
him happy! Meanwhile you and I will be in Paris, safely married. An
offer came to me yesterday from Jean De Letzski--forwarded on. He's
getting old. He wants me to take on some of his pupils, under his
direction. I telegraphed back my acceptance. That's the wire I was
sending when Herter's man turned up last night. There was a question
last summer of my getting this chance with De Letzski, but I hardly
dared hope. It's a great stroke of luck! In the end I shall stand in De
Letzski's shoes, and be a rich man--almost as rich as if I'd kept my
place as star tenor in opera. Even at the beginning you and I won't be
poor. I count on a wedding gift from the Becketts to you of ten thousand
dollars at least. The one way to save our reputations is to marry or die
brilliantly. We choose the former. We can take a fine apartment. We'll
entertain the most interesting set in Paris. With your looks and charm,
and what's left of my voice, we----"

"Oh, _stop_!" I plunged into the torrent of his talk. "You are making
me--_sick_. Do you really believe I'd accept money from Jim Beckett's