"What do you do, then, when you don't know, if you don't ask questions?"
He took a loose cigarette from his pocket and slowly lit it.
"Ah--then you have recourse to that wonderful method of finding out. It's so difficult, so almost impossible, and that's why it's so wonderful. To begin with, you pretend you don't want to know. That must be the first step. All others--and there are hundreds--follow after that; but you must pretend you don't want to know, or she'll never tell you. But I am sure your mother's been saying something to you about me, and I really want to know what it is. How did she come to hear about me?"
He knew it would be easy for her to begin with that. No woman will tell unless it is easy.
"Did you tell her?" he suggested gently, knowing that she did not.
"Oh, no--I didn't. It was Ronald."
"Ah--he said something?"
"Yes--at lunch--something about the papers."
"And you had to explain?"
"Yes."