The Secret Sin of Septimus Brope
forest, I knew you must be working up a sonnet, and Florrie was the only female name that suggested itself as rhyming with lorry."
Septimus still looked uneasy.
"I believe you know more," he said.
Clovis laughed quietly, but said nothing.
"How much do you know?" Septimus asked desperately.
"The yew tree in the garden," said Clovis.
"There! I felt certain I'd dropped it somewhere. But you must have guessed something before. Look here, you have surprised my secret. You won't give me away, will you? It is nothing to be ashamed of, but it wouldn't do for the editor of the 'Cathedral Monthly' to go in openly for that sort of thing, would it?"
"Well, I suppose not," admitted Clovis.
"You see," continued Septimus, "I get quite a decent lot of money out of it. I could never live in the style I do on what I get as editor of the 'Cathedral Monthly.'"
Clovis was even more startled than Septimus had been earlier in the conversation, but he was better skilled in repressing surprise.
"Do you mean to say you get money out of—Florrie?" he asked.
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