“He spoke to you?”
“Yes. He addressed me as ‘Nellie.’”
Olivia had dropped her eyes, but she heard Mrs. Brander’s breath, coming quickly, as if she was choking. The girl put her hand out impulsively on the arm of the elder lady, and whispered, without looking up—
“You made me tell you. And, after all, what does it matter? I think you know.”
She felt her hand seized with a convulsive pressure.
“You will say nothing?” Then Mrs. Brander snatched her hand away. “No, no; it is asking too much, of course. And perhaps, after all, it would be of no use.”
“At any rate, Mrs. Brander, nobody but you will ever hear the story from me.”
She ignored Vernon, as she had ignored him throughout the whole of the interview. Mrs. Brander drew a labored sigh.
“I trust you,” she said in a hoarse voice. “A woman can keep a secret as well as a man, I know.”
“Oh, yes,” said Olivia, simply. “Now you will let me go, will you not?”