The light from the fire on the hearth set them miles apart, as she had known it would. His face closed shut. He would never mention all this to her again. He was irritated that he had spoken. He blamed her because he had spoken. But she cared less than nothing whether she were blamed or not. As soon as she was able to control the nervous trembling of her hands and lips and head, she asked, "How much does Marise know?" He said impatiently, "I don't know. I haven't any idea. I thought perhaps _you_ might have. Why _else_ do you suppose I told you about it?" "What do you think?" she persisted. "Well, I don't see how she could. That music-teacher had gone directly to be with her, and stayed with her practically every minute I wasn't, and I know she'd never tell her anything, nor let anybody else. But you never know. You never know. There are a million underground ways--in France especially. You find out everything you ever know through the back of your head somehow, or by putting two and two together that nobody meant you to. Servants--gossip--though, thank God, Jeanne had a stroke of paralysis just then, that kept her from saying a word till after we had left Bayonne. If Jeanne had been able to talk, I'd have been _sure_ that Marise had heard forty times more than there was to know. Damn Jeanne! and yet she'd have died to get Marise a new dress or something good to eat, any day! I don't see how Marise _could_ have heard anything. And of course, if she didn't--least said, soonest mended. But if she did, it's a dead sure thing she got it all twisted, and I suppose she ought to have it straightened out." His old cousin broke in with a rush, "Well, I think you'd better tell her," and felt instantly that this was not at all the answer he had wished for. "You don't want to do it," she said. "Oh, I never want to do anything," he admitted. "It's always the easiest way." "The easiest way lands you in some pretty hard places," she observed. He made no comment on this, but his silence did not save him from her further going on, "Look where it landed you with Flora." He was stirred to a moment of heat, "What are you talking about, Hetty? By God, I never refused Flora anything she wanted. If you call _that_ the easiest way!" She flared up in a momentary impatience at his denseness, but wasted no words on an issue no longer vital. "Well, I think you'd better tell Marise," she repeated stubbornly. He set this on one side for a moment as irrelevant, and said, "All I want to know from you is whether you've ever seen a sign in her to make you think she had heard anything. Did you ever notice when she speaks of her mother ... or whether she doesn't speak?" She scorned, as he knew she would, coloring the truth to win a point, "No, I never did," she stated honestly. "Well then, that's all I wanted to know. I know you'd have seen it, if it were there, she's been so much with you." "But I think you ought to tell her," she persisted.