She sighed.
"How long ago was it?" he asked.
"Five years. Charley Tailleur was the first."
"What?"
"The first. There were others; ever so many others. I'm—that sort."
"I don't believe you."
"You've got to believe me. You can't marry me, and you've got to see why."
She also paused. Her silences were terrible to him.
"I thought you did see once. It didn't seem possible that you couldn't. Do you remember the first time I met you?"
He remembered.