"She will have told you, perhaps, that I asked her to be my wife. Did she ever tell you that?" Florence looked into his face for a few moments without answering him, not knowing how to answer such a question. "I know that she has told you," said he. "I can see that it is so."
"She has told me," said Florence.
"Why should she not? How could she be with you so many hours, and not tell you that of which she could hardly fail to have the remembrance often present with her. If I were gone from here, if I were not before her eyes daily, it might be otherwise; but seeing me as she does from day to day, of course she has spoken of me to her friend."
"Yes, Mr. Saul; she has told me of it."
"And now, will you tell me whether I may hope."
"Mr. Saul!"
"I want you to betray no secret, but I ask you for your advice. Can I hope that she will ever return my love?"
"How am I to answer you?"
"With the truth. Only with the truth."
"I should say that she thinks that you have forgotten it."