"I don't know that any particular good would come of it, but I should feel happier in my mind. I never had any wish to tell the aunts. I don't know exactly why, but you don't somehow want to tell them things. But ever since I've known that Dick was Janey's brother I've wanted to tell her--her and Roger. It seems to come between me and them like a cloud. You see, they like me, and I like them. There is nothing kept back in _their_ lives, and they think I'm the same as them. I feel as if I ought to tell them." "But, my dear, if I know anything of people like the Manvers, especially when embedded in the country, it is that they would be terribly shocked, and the disclosure would make an estrangement at once." "It might," Annette agreed. "I think you're right. I'm afraid it _would_. But I should like to tell them, all the same." "They would not be wide-minded enough to understand." "They're not wide-minded, I know that, and of course they may feel I've been here under false pretences." "They certainly would. Wouldn't it be better to do as I advise--to leave Riff? You must lose them either way, Annette. Then why not lose them by going away, instead of telling them first and then having to go away?--for, of course, you could not remain. It would give less pain all round." Annette locked her hands together. "I would rather they knew the truth about me." "The truth!" said Mrs. Stoddart, who, like most shrewd women, did not relish opposition. "The truth! And who will get at the truth if you tell that story of your act of supreme folly? Who will believe that you were not Dick Le Geyt's mistress? The truth! Do you think it is the truth about you that I have taken such trouble to conceal?" "Yes, partly," said Annette. "And I have often wondered lately if it had not been a mistake." "Why particularly lately?" "Because of Roger Manvers." "The young man at the bridge? I wondered whether he was in love with you when we were talking to him. But I did not think it mattered if he was." "It matters to me." "You mean you are actually thinking of him? Of course, he is most estimable, and a gentleman, one can see that at a glance, but isn't he a trifle dull, _borné_?" "I think I could get on better with a dull person, if he was kind and honourable, than a clever one. I've had one clever one--who wasn't honourable. You see, I'm only good-looking. I'm nothing else. That's why I like being with the Miss Blinketts and Mrs. Nicholls. I forgot perhaps you don't know Mrs. Nicholls is the washerwoman. A clever man would get tired of me, or bored with me, and he would expect so much, understandings and discriminations and things which I could not give, or only by a dreadful effort. If I married Roger, he would be pleased with me as I am." "I have no doubt he would." "And I should be pleased with him too." "I am not so sure of that." "I am, but for some time past I have wished he knew anything there was to know against me."