"Why, having such secrets." She was roundly ready now. "Sacrificing poor
May."
"But _you_, dear lady, sacrificed poor May! It didn't strike you as
horrid _then_."
"Well, that was only," she maintained, "because you talked me over."
I let her see the full process of my taking--or not taking--this in.
"And who is it then that--if, as you say, you've spoken to no one--has,
as I may call it, talked you under?"
She completed, on the spot, her statement of a moment before. "Not a
creature has spoken to me."
I felt somehow the wish to make her say it in as many ways as
possible--I seemed so to enjoy her saying it. This helped me to make my
tone approve and encourage. "You've communicated so little with anyone!"
I didn't even make it a question.
It was scarce yet, however, quite good enough. "So little? I've not
communicated the least mite."
"Precisely. But don't think me impertinent for having for a moment
wondered. What I should say to you if you had, you know, would be that
you just accused me."
"Accused you?"
"Of talking too much."