"Thank you. I am waiting for an explanation now," I said dryly.
"Do you think I owe you one?"
"I am of that opinion, Mr. Monk."
"Hush!" He glanced anxiously through the glass at the backs of the footmen and chauffeur. "Here, in London; I am Mr. Marr."
"Mr. Wentworth Marr," I said mockingly. "May I ask why?"
"I do not see," he said smoothly, "that you have any right to ask questions concerning my private business."
"I must correct you there," I answered hotly. "Lady Mabel Wotton, her brother, and Lady Denham are friends of mine. I do not wish to see them deceived, Mr.--er--er--Wentworth Marr."
"That is very creditable to your heart, Mr. Vance. But I fail to see how I am deceiving them."
"You wish to marry Lady Mabel?"
"Is that a crime? I am a widower, and am free to take another wife."