“All my life—though—well, how can I explain, papa? You ought to understand. One finds out such things all at once, and then one knows that they have always been there.”
“I suppose so,” said Sherry. “You did not know that ‘it,’ as you call it, was there when I went away.”
“Oh yes, I did.”
“Well, did you know it a year ago?”
“No, perhaps not. Oh, papa, this is like twenty questions.” Mamie laughed happily.
“Is it? Never played the game—cannot say. And you have no doubts about him, have you?”
“How can anybody doubt him!” Mamie exclaimed indignantly.
“It is my business to doubt,” said Sherry Trimm with a twinkle in his eye. “’I am the doubter and the doubt’—never knew what it meant till to-day.”
“Then go away, papa!” laughed the young girl.
“And let George have a chance. I suppose that is what you mean. On the whole, perhaps I could do nothing better. But I will just see whether he has any doubts, and finish my cigar with him.”