"What makes you suppose that?" said Whittlestaff, sharply.
"You told me that you were sure I should know."
"So I am, quite sure. You came all the way down to Alresford to see her. If you spoke the truth, you came all the way home from the diamond-fields with the same object."
"I certainly spoke the truth, Mr Whittlestaff."
"Then what's the good of your pretending not to know?"
"I have not pretended. I merely said that I could not presume to put the young lady's name into your mouth until you had uttered it yourself. There could be no other subject of conversation between you and me of which I was aware."
"You had spoken to me about her," said Mr Whittlestaff.
"No doubt I had. When I found that you had given her a home, and had made yourself, as it were, a father to her—"
"I had not made myself her father,—nor yet her mother. I had loved her, as you profess to do."
"My profession is at any rate true."