"He told me there." There was embarrassment as well as wonder in her manner now.
"Well then, you must know why he told you. We don't know." Mina was very peevish.
"Is it any use asking——?" Iver began. An unceremoniously impatient and peremptory wave of Mina's arm reduced him to silence. Her curiosity left no room for his prudent counsels of reticence.
"What were you doing in the Gallery?" demanded Mina.
"I was looking at all the things there and—and admiring them. He came up presently and—I don't remember that he said very much. He watched me; then he asked me if I loved the things. And—well, then he told me. He told me and went straight out of the room. I waited a long while, but he didn't come back, and I haven't spoken to him since." She looked at each of them in turn as though someone might be able to help her with the puzzle.
"Somehow you made him do it—you," said Mina Zabriska.
Slowly Cecily's eyes settled on Mina's face; thus she stood silent for a full minute.
"Yes, I think so. I think I must have somehow." Her voice rose as she asked with a sudden access of agitation, "But what are we to do now?"
Mina had no thought for that; it was the thing itself that engrossed her, not the consequences.
"There will, of course, be a good many formalities," said Iver. "Subject to those, I imagine that the—er—question settles itself."