“What more could he do—right there on the dock?” “Oh, then you do know?” “Know what?” “What do you suppose? Can’t you guess?” “I didn’t know you wanted me to guess. I thought you meant to tell me.” “I can’t tell you what I don’t know myself—officially.” “Do you know it in any other way?” “I know it by signs and tokens.” “One can infer a lot from them.” “That’s just what I’ve done. It wasn’t till I heard that you’d come over in the same boat with her—” The rest of the sentence was conveyed by a look which invited me to go on. “You thought I might be able to corroborate the signs and tokens?” “Or contradict them—if it’s not a rude thing to say.” I wriggled away from the frontal attack. “Why should it be rude?” “Oh, well, I’m the last person in the world to go poking into other people’s business.” “Exactly.” “Only people do like to tell me things.” “I can quite understand that—when they’ve anything to tell.” “Which is what I thought you might have.” “How could I have anything to tell when I’ve just spent two years in trenches and hospitals?” “You haven’t been in trenches and hospitals during the last ten days. Oh, don’t say anything if you don’t want to. I’m not in the least curious.” “Of course you’re not. No one would ever think so.” “I’ve only been—well, just a little afraid.” “What were you afraid of?” “Of the situation. I suppose it wasn’t an accident that you took the boat that she was on?” “No, it wasn’t an accident. But what has that to do with it?” “Just that much—that you did it on purpose.” “So that you were afraid on my account?” “No; on hers. You see, she’s been so terribly talked about that now that it’s beginning again—” “Oh, it’s beginning again, is it?” She said, mysteriously, “Stephen Cantyre is rather a goose, you know.” “In what way?” “In the way of dropping hints when he’d much better keep still. He’s so crazy about her—” “It’s a pity for him to be dropping hints if he isn’t sure.” “Oh, he must be sure enough! After the way she treated him before, he’d never expose himself to the same thing the second time. It isn’t that he’s not sure. It’s just the way he does it—confiding in every one, but only saying that he hopes.” “If he only hopes, it doesn’t bind any one but himself.” “It isn’t a question of binding; it’s one of the situation. If she’s let him hope—the second time—she’s bound. If it was only the first time—or if she hadn’t made such an insane reputation for herself—don’t you see?—the whole thing is in that.” “I should think the whole thing was in whether or not she was in love with him.” “Well, it isn’t. If she was as much in love with somebody else as Juliet she couldn’t throw over Stephen Cantyre now. She’d have to be put under restraint if she did—shut up in some sort of ward. The community wouldn’t stand for it.” “It might be a nine days’ wonder, of course.”