“Look in the glass.”
“What for?”
“To see your face, to be sure.”
She started, blushed red, and moved a step towards me.
“You don’t mean—?” she cried.
“Thou art the woman,” said I.
“Oh, but he never said a word—”
“Johnny had his code,” said I. “And in some ways it was better than some people’s—in some, alas! worse.”
“And Hilary?”
“Really you know better than I do whether I’ve told the truth about Hilary.”