“And gave you a sheet of paper and furnished you with a stamped envelope?”
“Yes.”
“And while you may have thought you were collaborating, the essential scheme of this disappearance of yours was thought up by him?”
“Well — yes, I guess so. He told me I had to save the family’s honor, and that it would be better and more beautiful to have Philip keep on loving me and always cherish the memory of our love, than to be brutally disillusioned and perhaps hate me.”
“All right. You did just what you seemed to do.”
“What?”
“Suffered a loss of memory.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Go right through with it. You suffered a complete loss of memory. You were in the office. You reached for a pencil and — bingo. Your mind went blank. You found yourself out on the street without any idea of who you were or what your name was or how you happened to be there.”
“What good would that do? How would that help?”