“Did she ever tell you anything about the fact of her marriage and parting from her husband?”
“No. The only thing that she ever said to me was one day when we were in Central Park and a handsome carriage went past. She said to me: ‘If you were enjoying your rights, my dear, you would be riding in that very carriage.’”
“She said nothing further?”
“She did not.”
“Did you question her?”
“I did, but she answered to the effect, that some day when I was old enough to appreciate the circumstances, she would tell me the story.”
The girl had answered every question without hesitation, and if she were lying, then she had concocted a clever story to cover every point and had committed it thoroughly to memory.
He now began to ask her some other questions, putting them to her in the most wily manner, and taking care to leave pitfalls for her to stumble into.
But she did not trip once.
And he afterward said to himself: