‘That’s asking a question.’
‘And telling what I know at the same time. It saves breath.’
Beatrice laughed; and Nancy, become a mere automaton, laughed too.
‘That’s more like it,’ said Miss. French cheerfully. ‘Now we shall get on together. It’s very shocking, my dear. A person of my strict morality hardly knows how to look you in the face. Perhaps you had rather I didn’t try. Very well. Now tell me all about it, comfortably. I have a guess, you know.’
‘What is it?’
‘Wait a little. I don’t want to be laughed at. Is it any one I know?’
‘You have never seen him, and I dare say never heard of him.’
Beatrice stared incredulously.
‘I wouldn’t tell fibs, Nancy.’
‘I’m telling the truth.’