“That’s what?” said Catherine gruffly.
“That’s what’s been making you so ... so different—lately.... I’d been wondering what it was. I never guessed it was George.”
“How did you find out?”
“I didn’t find out. You just told me.”
Catherine turned down Hanson Street, the road immediately opposite the Ridgeway.
“Let’s go down here,” she suggested. “It’s quieter. I can see you’ve a lot to say to me.”
Helen took her arm.
“No, I haven’t.... I don’t know that I can say anything, really.... Only I think you’re silly.”
“Why?” The word rang out like a pistol-shot.
The reply did not come immediately. When it did it sounded limp and uncertain.