There was a summer-house at the end of the garden with a view over the breezy solitude of the Downs.
Here we established ourselves; and here, in my headlong way, I opened the interview with the one formidable question:--"Who is to tell her of the mistake she has made ?" "Nobody is to tell her." That answer staggered me at the outset.

I looked at Nugent in silent astonishment.
"There is nothing to be surprised at," he said.

"Let me put my point of view before you in two words.

I have had a serious talk with Oscar--" Women are proverbially bad listeners--and I am no better than the rest of them.

I interrupted him, before he could get any farther.
"I suppose Oscar has told you how the mistake happened ?" I said.
"He has no idea how it happened.