"Let us suppose I do. And suppose I am trying to make up my mind
about the best way of dealing with the little affair. As I told you,
I wish Mrs. Clover didn't know about it; but that's your doing. Our
friend, Mr. C., wouldn't thank you."
"He knows, then, does he?" cried Polly.
"Mr. C. knows a great many things, my dear. He was not born
yesterday. Now, see here, Polly. We're both of us in this, and we'd
better be straight with each other. I am no friend of Mr. C., but I
am a friend of yours, and if you can help me to get a bit tighter
hold of him--Yes, yes, I'll tell you presently. The question is,
Whether I can depend upon what he says? Of course, I know all about
you; I want to know more about him. Now, is it true that you saw him
first at the theatre?"
Polly nodded, and Gammon congratulated himself on his guess.
"And--he wasn't alone?"
"No."
"Just what I thought."
"He says he was alone--eh?" asked Polly with eagerness.
"I guess why. Now who was with him, old girl?"
A moment's sulky hesitation and Polly threw away all reserve.
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