"So you have heard that old story--and believe it?" he said, with his eyes looking straight into hers. As she made no answer, he went on. "Now, as you have heard it, I will explain the whole thing to you. I have always wanted to do it; but--but--I hardly knew whether it were better to do it or leave it alone. I thought if you had heard it you would mention it to me--"
"I have done so now," she said coldly.
"I thought our relation--or, as you object to that word, our friendship--entitled me to that much from you."
"I never heard it till--till just now," she defended, rather shaken by his tone and air of candor.
"When?
"Oh--very recently."
"Won't you tell me who told you?"
"No--o. Go on."
"Well, that woman--that poor girl--her name was--her name is--Phrony Tripper--or Trimmer. I think that was her name--she called herself Euphronia Tripper." He was trying with puckered brow to recall exactly. "I suppose that is the woman you are referring to?" he said suddenly.
"It is. You have not had more than one, have you?"