"
"I know," said Miss Bartlett civilly. "Yet Freddy ought not to
have told even you. One cannot be too careful."
"Quite so."
"I do implore absolute secrecy. A chance word to a chattering
friend, and--"
"Exactly." He was used to these nervous old maids and to the
exaggerated importance that they attach to words. A rector lives
in a web of petty secrets, and confidences and warnings, and the
wiser he is the less he will regard them. He will change the
subject, as did Mr. Beebe, saying cheerfully: "Have you heard
from any Bertolini people lately? I believe you keep up with Miss
Lavish. It is odd how we of that pension, who seemed such a
fortuitous collection, have been working into one another's
lives. Two, three, four, six of us--no, eight; I had forgotten
the Emersons--have kept more or less in touch. We must really
give the Signora a testimonial."
And, Miss Bartlett not favouring the scheme, they walked up the
hill in a silence which was only broken by the rector naming some
fern.
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