“Come, madam, your affectation of ignorance is useless, and only a waste of time. You cannot deny that while you hold Captain Desfrayne in legal bondage, you are in reality the wife, by a prior marriage, of a man who is in his service—one Leonardo Gilardoni.”
The words “you are” were like the sound of a trumpet to the unhappy woman. It was palpable that this man did not yet know of Gilardoni’s death. The strain upon her nerves had been so fearful that she gave way the instant the relaxation came. She fell back on the chair by which she stood, in violent hysterics.
Amazed by such apparently singular behavior, Frank Amberley stood by, partly alarmed, partly resolved not to summon assistance if he could help it, for he was determined to follow up the advantage he seemed to have gained.
Presently Lucia Guiscardini recovered her self-command. She was glad none of the servants had been called, though she would have welcomed the interruption their presence would have caused.
“You are doubtless surprised, sir, that I should be thus overcome,” she said. “But I am very unwell. I was on my way to the theater to tell the director I could not appear, in consequence of sudden illness. My nerves are overstrained. The subject of my marriage with the gentleman you name is a distressing one to me, and one upon which I cannot enter without painful emotion. Of the other person about whom you spoke I know nothing. I have never heard his name. The person I have the misfortune to call husband has evidently told you a false story. He has treated me with meanness and cruelty, but I have been generous enough not to betray him. Why does he send you to me?”
“Because he thought you might listen to me where you would only laugh in his face.”
“What does he want of me? Let him come himself. At this moment, I wish to see him. I have something of paramount importance to tell him.”
“You may treat me as his nearest friend and confidant in this matter,” said the young man quietly. “What you would say to him, you can say to me.”
“What guarantee have I that you really come from him?” demanded the signora.
“Why should I raise a fiction of such a kind? What good could I do myself or others by deceiving you?”