know where the money came from. When her father or mother came in and said, 'Here 's ten dollars to pay the butcher, and here 's twenty dollars to pay the grocer,' don't you suppose she wanted to know where it came from? Really, John, considering you 're supposed to be so clever, you don't know much about women."
He made no answer, and she went on:
"Of course she knew all about it. She would have been an idiot if she had n't. And she does n't sound at all like an idiot. It 's just the other way. She was clever—altogether too clever. I don't like that kind of person at all. I would n't trust her from here to the corner. She must have been one of those soft, clinging, gentle creatures who are always turning aside to hide their tears. Was she?"
"I dare say. You seem to know more about her than I do."
"But it sounds very interesting," said Letitia, coming closer to him. "I 'd like to read it. What is the name of the book?"
"Oh, I don't remember. It 's nonsense, anyway—some stuff not worth talking about."
Letitia continued to look at him silently for a moment; then she said slowly:
"It 's not a book at all. It 's a real person. You 've been trying to make a fool of me."
He looked at her quickly, his eyes, behind the
