“Asking questions?”
“Answering them,” she replied.
“You have not broken our vow?” I said anxiously, noticing something about her figure.
“Oh, the vow,” she said casually. “I’m going to have a baby, if that’s what you mean. You can’t imagine,” she burst out, “how exciting, how beautiful, how satisfying—”
“What is?” I asked.
“To—to—answer questions,” she replied in some confusion. Whereupon she told me the whole of her story. But in the middle of an account which interested and excited me more than anything I had ever heard, she gave the strangest cry, half whoop, half holloa—
“Chastity! Chastity! Where’s my chastity!” she cried. “Help Ho! The scent bottle!”
There was nothing in the room but a cruet containing mustard, which I was about to administer when she recovered her composure.
“You should have thought of that three months ago,” I said severely.
