"He pretended to be some one else, and passed a civil-service
examination, wasn't it?"

"Yes. I can tell by your tone that you think it was disreputable. So
do I, Miss Wellington; though some of my friends say that it was Jim's
desire to help a friend which led him to do it. But he had to serve
his time in jail, didn't he?" She looked as though she were going to
cry. Then she said awkwardly: "What I wished to ask was whether you
would marry him if you were I."

Mary frowned. The responsibility was disconcerting. "Do you love him?"
she asked plumply.

"I did love him; I suppose I do still; yes, I do." She jerked out her
answers in quick succession. "But our engagement is broken."

"Because of this?"

"Because he has been in jail. None of my family has ever been in
jail." Miss Burke set in place the loose hairs of her pompadour with a
gesture of severe dignity as she spoke.

"And he knows, of course, that his dishonesty is the reason why you
feel that you cannot trust him?" inquired Mary, who, being a logical
person, regarded the last answer as not altogether categorical.

"It wasn't like stealing," said the girl, by way of resenting the
phrase.