"Practically at the last moment—less than an hour before the time set for the ceremony. She was getting ready for it—was in her wedding-dress, in fact. I tell you, Lester——"
"Wait," I said, putting out a restraining hand. "Begin at the beginning. What's her name?"
"Marcia Lawrence."
"And she's the 'ideal' Curtiss imagined he'd found?"
"Yes," said Mr. Royce slowly, "and so far as I can judge from what I've seen and heard, she really was as nearly perfect as any woman can be."
"Yet she 'skipped out'!"
"That's why I'm so upset—she was the last woman in the world to do such a thing!"
"Tell me about her," I said.
"I don't know very much; but I do know that she wasn't a mere empty-headed chit. She was an accomplished and cultured woman. I've already told you how her beauty affected me."
I paused a moment to consider it—I was fairly nonplussed. It seemed incredible that such a woman should, under any conceivable circumstances, deliberately desert her lover at the altar!