"Everything probably is true. But then, the point is that you don't know the whole truth, or even half of it. That's just what he couldn't tell you. I should have told you. That's where I bungled it. You know he left it to me; he said I was to tell you."
"Yes, he told me that. He didn't mean to deceive me."
"No more did I. If my brother had been a bad man, dear, do you suppose for a moment I'd have let him marry my dearest friend?"
"You didn't know. We don't know these things, Edith. That's the terrible part of it."
"Yes, it's the terrible part of it. But I knew all right. He never kept anything from me, not for long."
"But, Edith—how could he? How could he? When the woman—Lady Cayley—She was bad, wasn't she?"
"Of course she was bad. Bad as they make them—worse. You know she was divorced?"
"Yes," said Anne, "that's what I do know."
"Well, she wasn't divorced on Walter's account, my dear. There were several others—four, five, goodness knows how many. Poor Walter was a mere drop in her ocean."
Anne stared a moment at the expanse presented to her.