"It came about sooner than I intended—the horizon was so serene I wanted to lay-to for a bit—but it was no use. We were talking of something—I forget what—and I made a quotation. You know the chap who said, 'Show me a woman's clothes at different periods of her life and I will tell you her history'?"
"Yes; I forget his name, but I think it was a Frenchman."
"Well, I quoted him. Pretended to a like perspicacity: it was a sneaking, cowardly ruse to know more of her."
"Had she told you nothing?"
"All this week I had known no more than what we both knew or surmised—that there was a secret panel somewhere."
"And in your tapping for hollows——?"
"The spring flew; yes, but not as you suppose. I pretended that a sight of even a few of her past dresses might suggest a fragmentary romance, though of course she was too young for histories such as were meant by the originator of the idea. She is only twenty-four," he parenthesised, "was married at nineteen; I learnt that."
"She snapped at my offer—was almost ardent in her wish to test me.
"'I could show you the most important dresses I have worn in the last seven years,' she said. 'I used to clothe myself in gowns to match my moods at one time,' she added.