They had traversed some yards before she spoke again, and then her voice
was low and studiously even.

"I can't pretend to you that there has never been anyone else. It
wouldn't be right. You probably wouldn't believe me if I did."

"Oh, I gathered that a long time ago," Hill said.

"Yes, of course you did. You always see everything, don't you? It's your
specialty."

"I don't go about with my eyes shut, certainly," said Hill.

"I'm glad of that," Dot said. "I would rather you knew about it.
Only"--her voice quivered again--"I don't know how to tell you."

"You are sure you would rather I knew?" he said.

"Yes." She spoke with decision. "You've got to know if--if--" She broke
off.

"If we are going to be married?" he suggested.

"Yes," whispered Dot.

Hill walked a few paces in silence. Then, unexpectedly, he drew the
nervous little hand he held through his arm. "Well, you needn't tell
me any more," he said. "I know the rest."