"I don't go about with my eyes shut, certainly," said Hill.
"I'm glad of that," Dot said. "I would rather you knew about it. Only"—her voice quivered again—"I don't know how to tell you."
"You are sure you would rather I knew?" he said.
"Yes." She spoke with decision. "You've got to know if—if—" She broke off.
"If we are going to be married?" he suggested.
"Yes," whispered Dot.
Hill walked a few paces in silence. Then, unexpectedly, he drew the nervous little hand he held through his arm. "Well, you needn't tell me any more," he said. "I know the rest."
She started and stood still. There was quick fear in the look she threw him. "You mean Jack told you—"
"No, I don't," said Hill. "Jack has never yet told me anything I couldn't have told him ages before. I knew from the beginning. It was the fellow they called Buckskin Bill, wasn't it?"
She quivered from head to foot and was silent.