"Were you in Washington the winter of '61?" I asked, changing the subject; for I could not bear it.
"Part of that winter," he said, with a somewhat surprised look at me.
"Did you meet in society here that winter a Miss St. Clair, who used to be once a schoolmate of mine? - very handsome."
"I think I remember her. I knew nothing about her having been at school with you, or I think I should have sought her acquaintance."
"She was said to have yours."
"A passing, society acquaintance, she had."
"Nothing more?"
"More?" said he. "No. Nothing more."
"How came the report that you were her dearest friend?"
"From the father of lies," said Mr. Thorold; "if there ever was such a report; which I should doubt."