“‘No, no, that he never said!’ says she, bursting in—‘that he never said!’
“‘Not in them words,’ says I, ‘certainly not, but it came to the same, for he said she used to be as happy here as the days was long!’
“‘True; it was all true,’ said she to herself. ‘Go on.’
“‘” Go back,” says he, “and say, that sorry as I was at first, I’m getting over it now, and it wouldn’t be better for either of us to hold any more correspondence.” And with that he gave me the letter back, sealed as it was.’”
“What made you say that?” cried Ladarelle.
“Because I knew she’d never ask for it; or if she did, I’d say, ‘I had it in my trunk at home.’ The first thing was to get her to believe me, at any cost.”
“Is that her way?” asked the other, thoughtfully.
“That’s her way. She’s not given to have suspicions, you can see that. If you talk to her straight ahead, and never break down in what you say, she’ll look at you openly, and believe it all; but if ever she sees you stop, or look confused, or if she catches you taking a sly look at her under the eyes, you’re done—done entirely! The devil a lawyer from this to Dublin would put you through such a cross-examination; and I defy the cleverest fellow that ever sat in the witness-box to baffle her. And she begins quite regular—quiet, soft, and smooth as a cat.”
“What do I care for all this? She may be as shrewd as she pleases this day fortnight, Master O’Rorke. Let us only have the balls our own, and we’ll win the game before she gets a hazard.”
This illustration from the billiard-table was not fully intelligible to O’Rorke, but he saw its drift, and he assented.