To his bewilderment, a great doubt suddenly dawned in her eyes, and the old familiar anger flashed.
“ Henry,” she accused him. “This is a ruse, a devil’s trick you’re trying to play on me. Of course you are Henry.”
Francis pointed to his mustache.
“ You’ve grown that since,” she challenged.
He pulled up his sleeve and showed her his left arm from wrist to elbow. But she only looked her incomprehension of the meaning of his action.
“ Do you remember the scar?” he asked.
She nodded.
“ Then find it.”
She bent her head in swift vain search, then shook it slowly as she faltered:
“ I ... I ask your forgiveness. I was terribly mistaken, and when I think of the way I ... I’ve treated you ...”
“ That kiss was delightful,” he naughtily disclaimed.
She recollected more immediate pass
