mill at Wootton a hundred times. You didn't know that it was a windmill; you're not Marion."
Pollyooly opened her mouth to declare that she was Marion, but shut it without uttering a word. Thanks to her strict training, it was always hard for her to lie; she found it almost impossible to lie to Ronald.
She looked round the landscape rather wildly, seeking inspiration; then she said: "Well, something must have gone wrong with my memory."
"Rats! You're not Marion, and it's no good pretending you are—to me. Who are you?" said Ronald firmly.
Pollyooly said nothing; she scowled horribly at the innocent windmill.
"Now, out with it. If you tell me straight away I won't split. I give you my word," said Ronald earnestly.
Pollyooly shook her head; but her puckered brow smoothed a little.
"Now, come on. What's the good of keeping a secret which isn't a secret?" said Ronald, in a tone half pleading, half commanding.
"It all comes of not letting you do all the talking.
