"You mean you know about him?" she asked, almost confidentially.
"Not all I want to--yet. He's a sharp customer. But considerably
more than you do, Polly, my dear."
"I don't believe you!"
"That has nothing to do with it. Suppose you ask me a question or
two. I might be able to tell you something you would like to know."
It was said, of course, without any suspicion of the real state of
things; but Gammon saw at once that he had excited an eager
curiosity.
"You know where he is, then?" asked Polly.
"Well--we'll say so."
"Where? When did _you_ see him last?"
"We're going too quickly, old girl. The question is, When did you
see him last?"
"Ah! you'd like to know, wouldn't you?"
Gammon burst out laughing, ever the surest way of baffling a silly
woman. Polly grew hot with anger, then subsided into mortification.
She knew the weakness of her position, and inclined ever more to
make an ally of the man who had overcome her in battle and carried
her off in his arms.
"And the other question is," Gammon proceeded, as if enjoying a huge
joke, "When did you see him first?"
"I suppose you know?" she murmured reluctantly.
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