“And is she in Philadelphia?—where is she?—how came she to find you out?”
“I do not know; she sent me a note, and I went to her hotel.”
“Was she alone—was she alone?” questioned Mr. Clark, starting up.
“No, not quite alone,” replied Mr. Smith, with a meaning smile; “I saw only one person with her, a young and remarkably handsome man.”
Mr. Clark sunk to his chair as if a bullet had passed through his heart. “Go on,” he said, after a moment; “go on, I am listening.”
“This lady, sir, seemed determined to see you; she came on here—she is now in Baltimore.”
“And her companion?” said Mr. Clark, with a ghastly smile.
“No,” replied Smith; “I think she would not do that. She wishes to see you; I do not know what her object is,”
“I will not see her; I will never see her again,” said Mr. Clark, and his face looked like marble. “If she needs any thing, supply her; she is, sir, the mother of my child; she is—but I will not talk of it; let her want for nothing—she is my wife.”
“You will not see her then?”