“Yes,” she said. “Of course you know who I really am, don’t you, Mr. Gilman?”
“I only know you’re Mrs. Moncreiff,” he answered.
“But I’m not! Surely you’ve heard something? Surely it’s been hinted in front of you?”
“Never!” said he.
“But haven’t you asked—about my marriage, for instance?”
“To ask might have been to endanger your secret,” he said.
“I see!” she murmured. “How frightfully loyal you are, Mr. Gilman! I do admire loyalty. Well, I dare say very, very few people do know. So I’ll tell you. That’s my home over there.” And she pointed to Flank Hall, whose chimneys could just be seen over the bank.
“I admit that I had thought so,” said Mr. Gilman.
“But naturally that was your home as a girl, before your marriage.”
“I’ve never been married, Mr. Gilman,” she said. “I’m only what the French call a jeune fille.”