"Nan--" They were still sitting by the stove, and Nan was lighting a
cigarette. "Nan--do you guess why I've come?"

Nan threw away the match.

"No, mother. How should I?... One does come to Rome, I suppose, if one
gets a chance."

"Oh, I've not come to see Rome. I know Rome. Long before you were
born.... I've come to see you. And to take you back with me."

Nan glanced at her quickly, a sidelong glance of suspicion and
comprehension. Her lower lip projected stubbornly.

"Ah, I see you know what I mean. Yes, I've heard. Rumours reached us--it
was through Rosalind, of course. And I'm afraid ... I'm afraid that for
once she spoke the truth."

"Oh no, she didn't. I don't know what Rosalind's been saying this time,
but it would be odd if it was the truth."

"Nan, it's no use denying things. I _know_."

It was true; she did know. A few months ago she would have doubted and
questioned; but Mr. Cradock had taught her better. She had learnt from
him the simple truth about life; that is, that nearly everyone is nearly
always involved up to the eyes in the closest relationship with someone
of another sex. It is nature's way with mankind. Another thing she had
learnt from him was that the more they denied it the more it was so;
protests of innocence and admissions of guilt were alike proofs of the
latter. So she was accurate when she said that it was no use for Nan to
deny anything. It was no use whatever.

Nan had become cool and sarcastic--her nastiest, most dangerous manner.

"Do you think you would care to be a little more explicit, mother? I'm
afraid I don't quite follow. What is it no use my denying? _What_ do you
know?"

Mrs. Hilary gathered herself together. Her head trembled and jerked with
emotion; wisps of her hair, tousled by the night, escaped over her
collar. She spoke tremulously, tensely, her hands wrung together.

"That you are going on with a married man. That you are his mistress,"
she said, putting it at its crudest, since Nan wanted plain speaking.

Nan sat quite still, smoking. The silence thrilled with Mrs. Hilary's
passion.

"I see," Nan said at last. "And it's no use my denying it. In that case
I won't." Her voice was smooth and clear and still, like cold water. "You
know the man's name too, I presume?"

"Of course. Everyone knows it. I tell you, Nan, everyone's talking of you
and him. A town topic, Rosalind calls it."

"Rosalind would. Town must be very dull just now, if that's all they