"Then what do you mean?" she asked.
"Mrs. McSeeney and I are old acquaintances. I think I can answer for her."
"You speak in enigmas, Harold, and you ought not to keep any secrets from me, you know."
"I don't think you had better ask to know more," he said laughingly.
"But I do," she answered.
"Then I obey. Mrs. McSeeney and I were at Bar Harbor the same summer. I got to know her very well, perhaps better than she liked."
"Well, what has that to do with the affair in Chicago?" Florence asked impatiently.
"Nothing much except that Mrs. McSeeney thinks it would be wise never to mention it."
"Why?"
"I can't tell you. It is a secret between Mrs. McSeeney and myself."