“Yes, he told me. I—I am not sure that he was greatly surprised. He thought it honorable of you and he was very glad you did tell him, but I think he was not surprised.”
The oaks and the pines and the huckleberry bushes were dancing great giddy-go-rounds, a reflection of the whirlpool in my brain. Out of the maelstrom I managed to speak somehow.
“He was not surprised!” I repeated. “He was not—not—What do you mean?”
She did not answer. She drew away from me a step, but I followed her.
“Why wasn't he surprised?” I asked again.
“Because—because—Oh, I don't know! What have I been saying! I—Please don't ask me!”
“But why wasn't he surprised?”
“Because—because—” she hesitated. Then suddenly she looked up into my face, her wonderful eyes alight. “Because,” she said, “I had told him myself, sir.”
I seized her hands.
“YOU had told him? You had told him that I—I—”