It is a common
trick in these days. But let that be. For the third time I ask you--why
are you here with my new-wed wife and at this hour of the night?"
"So courteous a question demands a courteous answer, Master merchant,
but to give it I must trouble you to listen to a tale."
"Then let it be like my patience, brief," I replied.
"It shall," he said with a mocking bow.
Then very clearly and quietly he set out a dreadful story, giving dates
and circumstances. Let that story be. The substance of it was that he
had married Blanche soon after she reached womanhood and that she had
borne him a child which died.
"Blanche," I said when he had done, "you have heard. Is this true?"
"Much of it is true," she answered in that strange, cold voice, still
staring at the fire. "Only the marriage was a false one by which I
was deceived. He who celebrated it was a companion of the Lord Deleroy
tricked out as a priest."
"Do not let us wrangle of this matter," said Deleroy. "A man who mixes
with the world like yourself, Master merchant, will know that women in a
trap rarely lack excuses.
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