Frank Amberley pushed his chair back the few inches that intervened between him and the wall behind, and stared at Captain Desfrayne.
“Already married!” he repeated. “Impossible! You are jesting, surely? Pardon me, I am so much surprised that I scarcely know what I am saying. May I ask why you did not mention this important fact earlier?”
“The subject is a most painful one, for I must frankly confess to you that my marriage has been a most unhappy one, and has never been publicly acknowledged.”
A thrill of joy ran through Frank Amberley’s heart. Although he could scarcely hope to win the beautiful object of his passionate love and devotion, at least this stupendous stumbling-block was removed out of the path.
“Am I at liberty to inform the partners of the firm of this?” he asked.
“I suppose they must learn it sooner or later,” Paul Desfrayne answered, with a deep sigh. “Therefore, I leave the matter in your hands. I trust in your kindness and discretion not to let it be more fully known than may be absolutely necessary.”
“Miss Turquand ought to be informed of the state of affairs.”
“Perhaps you will be good enough to undertake the task?”
“A sufficiently unpleasant one.”
“Why so? To me it would be an impossibility; but to you——”