He turned them over quickly, but Eileen pulled one out—it was a Schubert song—and opened its leaves.
“That was the man who saved my life.”
She spoke without embarrassment, simply.
“Yes,” said Brand. “He suppressed the evidence.”
“Oh, you know?”
I told her that we had heard part of the tale from the Reverend Mother, but not all of it. Not the motive, nor what had really happened.
“But you guessed?”
“No,” I answered sturdily.
She laughed, but in a serious way.
“It is not a hard guess, unless I am older than I feel, and uglier than the mirror tells me. He was in love with me.”