It was then that Agatha told her. She made it out for her as far as she had made it out at all, with the diffidence that a decent attitude required.
Milly raised doubts which subsided in a kind of awe when Agatha faced her with the evidence of dates.
“You remember, Milly, the night when he slept?”
“I do remember. He said himself it was miraculous.” She meditated.
“And so you think it’s that?” she said presently.
“I do indeed. If I dared leave off (I daren’t) you’d see for yourself.”
“What do you think you’ve got hold of?”
“I don’t know yet.”
There was a long, deep silence which Milly broke.
“What do you do?” she said.