I was sure she did. She had reached the familiar pouring-out stage. It was obviously going to be a relief to her to spread herself on the subject. I am pretty well used to being told everything, and at times a good deal more, and have learnt to discount much of it. I looked away from her and prepared to listen, and to give my mind to sifting, if I could, the fact from the fancy in her story. This is a special art, and one which all parsons do well to learn. I have heard my vicar on the subject of women's confessions. 'Women--women. Some of them will invent any crime--give themselves away with both hands--merely to make themselves interesting. Poor things, they don't realise how tedious sin is. One has to be on one's guard the whole time, with that kind.' I deduced that Clare Potter might possibly be that kind. So I listened carefully, at first neither believing nor disbelieving. 'It's difficult to tell you,' she began, in a pathetic, unsteady voice. 'It hurts, rather ...' 'No, I think not,' I corrected her. 'It's a relief, isn't it?' She stared at me for a moment, then went on, 'Yes, I _want_ to tell. But it hurts, all the same.' I let her have it her own way; I couldn't press the point. She really thought it did hurt. I perceived that she had, like so many people, a confused mind. 'Go on,' I said. 'I must begin a long way back.... You see, before Oliver fell in love with Jane, he ... he cared a little for me. He really did, Mr. Juke. And he made me care for him.' Her voice dropped to a whisper. This was truth. I felt no doubt as to that. 'Then ... then Jane came, and took him away from me. He fell in love with her ... I thought my heart would break.' I didn't protest against the phrase, or ask her to explain it, because she was unhappy. But I wish people wouldn't use it, because I don't know, and they don't know, what they mean by it. 'I thought I should be very unhappy,' is that the meaning? No, because they are already that. 'I thought my heart--the physical organ--would be injuriously affected to the point of rupture.' No; I do not believe that is what they mean. Frankly, I do not know. There should be a dictionary of the phrases in common use. However, it would have been pedantic and unkind to ask Miss Potter, who could probably explain no phrases, to explain this. She went on, crying a little again. 'I couldn't stop caring for him all at once. How could I? I suppose you'll despise me, Mr. Juke, but I just couldn't help going on loving him. It's once and for ever with me. Oh, I expect you think it was shameful of me!' 'Shameful? To love? No, why? It's human nature. You had bad luck, that's all.'