Cleo glanced at him:
"You were about to tell me something that you heard in Norfolk?"
Andy looked at the door as an extra precaution and smiled blandly:
"Yassam, I happen ter hear down dar dat a long time ergo, mo'rn twenty years, afore I cum ter live here—dat is when I wuz er politicioner—dey wuz rumors 'bout you an' de major when you wuz Mister Tom's putty young nurse."
"Well?"
"De major's wife fin' it out an' die. De major wuz heart-broke, drap everything an' go Norf, an' while he wuz up dar, you claims ter be de mudder of a putty little gal. Now min' ye, I ain't nebber seed her, but dat's what I hears you claims——"
Andy paused impressively and Cleo held his eye in a steady, searching stare. She was trying to guess how much he really knew. She began to suspect that his story was more than half a bluff and made up her mind to fight.
"Claim? No, you fool!" she said with indifferent contempt, "I didn't claim it—I proved it. I proved it to his satisfaction. You may worry some one else with your secret. It doesn't interest me. But I'd advise you to have your life insured before you mention it to the major"—she paused, broke into a light laugh and added: "So that's your wonderful discovery?"
Andy looked at her with a puzzled expression and scratched his head:
"Yassam."