"And in that case," continued Campbell, "she would probably think that she ought to marry you. After having been dragged through the filth of a divorce court, she would imagine herself too besmirched to give herself to any other man. And your wealth, your title, and your precious self may not seem to her as desirable as you suppose. She is the sort of girl who would think them a poor exchange for the loss of her reputation and her liberty of choice. When she discovers how you have compromised her by your asinine stupidity, I don't fancy that she will take a lenient view of your conduct."
"You seem to forget that if I had not shielded her with my name, she would undoubtedly have been arrested on the train."
"Oh, I don't doubt you meant well."
"Thanks," murmured Cyril sarcastically.
"All I say is that you must not see her again till this mystery is cleared up. I didn't forget about the number of her apartment, but I wasn't going to help you to sneak in to her at all hours. Now, if you want to see her, you will have to go boldly up to the hotel and have yourself properly announced. And I don't think you will care about that."
"I promised to see her. I shall not break my word."
"I don't care a fig for your promises. You shan't see her as long as she believes you to be her husband."
Luckily the room was empty, for both men had risen to their feet.
"I shall see her," repeated Cyril.
"If you do, I warn you that I shall tell her the truth and risk the consequences. She shall not, if I can help it, be placed in a position where she will be forced to marry a man who has, after all, lived his life. She ought—" Guy paused abruptly.