“Hilary believed it!”
“Oh, Hilary!”
“But, then Hilary knew the girl.”
“Hilary knew—! You mean to say Hilary knew—?
“No one better,” said I composedly.
Mrs. Hilary rose to her feet. “Who was the creature?” she asked sharply.
“Come,” I expostulated, “how would you like it if your young man had taken to theft and—”
“Oh, nonsense. Tell me her name, please, Mr. Carter.”
“Johnny told Hilary that just to see her and talk to her and sit by her side was ‘worth all the money’—but then, to be sure, it was somebody else’s money—and that he’d do it again to get what he had got over again. Then, I’m sorry to say, he swore.”
“And Hilary believed that stuff?”