“Well, I should think so!” said Molly indignantly. “After I promised not to tell a soul about it.”
Jimmy chuckled.
“It’s nothing,” he said, in answer to her look of inquiry.
“You laughed at something.”
“Well,” said Jimmy apologetically, “it’s only—it’s nothing really—only what I meant is, you have just told one soul a good deal about it, haven’t you?”
Molly turned pink. Then she smiled.
“I don’t know how I came to do it,” she declared. “It rushed out of its own accord. I suppose it is because I know I can trust you.”
Jimmy flushed with pleasure. He turned to her and half halted, but she continued to walk on.
“You can,” he said; “but how do you know you can?”
“Why,” she said—she stopped for a moment, and then went on hurriedly, with a touch of embarrassment—“why, how absurd! Of course I know. Can’t you read faces? I can. Look,” she said, pointing, “now you can see the castle. How do you like it?”