I don't believe in Madame Fontaine." She little knew how that abrupt confession interested me.

"Tell me why!" I said eagerly.
"That's the disgraceful part of it," she answered.

"I can't tell you why.
Madame Fontaine spoke charmingly--with perfect taste and feeling.

And all the time some devilish spirit of distrust kept whispering to me, "Don't believe her; she has her motive!" Are you sure, David, it is only a little illness that makes her shut herself up in her room, and look so frightfully pale and haggard?
Do you know anything about her affairs?
Engelman is rich; Engelman has a position.

Has she got into some difficulty since she refused him?
and could he, by the barest possibility, be of any use in helping her out of it ?" I declare solemnly that the idea suggested by my aunt never occurred to me until she asked those questions.