"I know! I'm not fair. I ought to beg her pardon. And I ought to be
glad it's all over. Shall you see her again?"

"It might happen. But I don't know how or when. We parted friends, but
we parted strangers, so far as any prevision of the future is concerned,"
Verrian said.

His mother drew a long breath, which she tried to render inaudible.
"And the girl that asked her the strange questions, did you see her
again?"

"Oh yes. She had a curious fascination. I should like to tell you about
her. Do you think there's such a thing as a girl's being too innocent?"

"It isn't so common as not being innocent enough."

"But it's more difficult?"

"I hope you'll never find it so, my son," Mrs. Verrian said. And for the
first time she was intentionally personal. "Go on."

"About Miss Andrews?"

"Whichever you please."

"She waylaid me in the afternoon, as I was coming home from a walk, and
wanted to talk with me about Miss Shirley."

"I suppose Miss Shirley was the day's heroine after what had happened?"