"Then you know him?" she questioned, in a frightened whisper.
"I know more of his life than I can tell you. It is sufficient to say that to the best of my belief he has a wife now living—that he has been married before this under different names to at least two living women——"
He stopped and put out his hand with an impulsive protecting gesture, for the wounded vanity in the girl's face had pierced to his heart. "Will you let me see your father?" he asked gently, "would it not be better for me to speak to him instead of to you?"
"No, no!" cried Milly sharply, "don't tell him—don't dare to tell him—for he would believe it and it is a lie—it is a lie! I tell you it is a lie!"
"As God is my witness it is the truth," he answered, without resentment.
"Then you shall accuse him to his face. He is coming in a little while, and you shall accuse him before me——"
She stopped breathlessly and the pity in his look made her wince sharply and shrink away. With her movement the piece of sponge cake fell from her loosened fingers and rolled on the floor at her feet.
"But if it were true how could you know it?" she demanded. "No, it is not true—I don't believe it! I don't believe it!" she repeated in a passion of terror.
At her excited voice the canary, swinging on his perch, broke suddenly into an ecstasy of song, and Milly's words, when she spoke again, were drowned in the liquid sweetness that flowed from the cage. For a minute Ordway stood in silence waiting for the music to end, while he watched the angry, helpless tremor of the girl's outstretched hands.
"Will you promise me to wait?" he asked, raising his voice in the effort to be heard, "will you promise me to wait at least until you find out the truth or the falsehood of what I tell you?"