They looked into each other's eyes, and read there a mutual understanding.
"Then you've known all along?"
"Of course, from the very first, from the first night you came into the dressing-room, and pretended to be a reporter."
"Ah, I thought you had forgiven that."
"So I have—that is, there was nothing to forgive. You didn't deceive me."
"Do you mean that you knew at the time I wasn't a reporter? And Blanche—she knew too?"
"No, poor dear, she didn't know. Yet it was plain as daylight. Ah, my friend, I haven't lived fifty years for nothing. Don't you suppose I could tell from your looks and your manner, and what you said, and what you didn't say,—don't you suppose I could tell from all that, what you had come for?"
Jules looked into her face again.
"How good you are!" he sighed.
She burst out laughing.