“Oh, don’t let’s beat about the bush. Didn’t he tell you it was I who published Mrs. Aubyn’s letters? Answer me that.”
“No,” she said; and after a moment which seemed given to the weighing of alternatives, she added: “No one told me.”
“You didn’t know then?”
She seemed to speak with an effort. “Not until—not until—”
“Till I gave you those papers to sort?”
Her head sank.
“You understood then?”
“Yes.”
He looked at her immovable face. “Had you suspected—before?” was slowly wrung from him.
“At times—yes—” Her voice dropped to a whisper.