"Because I am the wife of Carnac Grier, and I know what will happen to him. . . . You turn pale, ma'm'selle, but your colour isn't going to alter the truth. I'm Carnac Grier's wife by the laws of New York State."
"Does Monsieur Grier admit he is your husband?"
"He must respect the law by which he married me."
"I don't believe he was ever honestly married to you," declared Junia.
"Has he ever lived with you—for a single day?"
"What difference would that make? I have the marriage certificate here."
She touched her bosom.
"I'd have thought you were Barode Barouche's wife by the way you act. Isn't it a wife's duty to help her husband—Shouldn't you be fighting against Barode Barouche?"
"I mean to be recognized as Carnac Grier's wife—that's why I'm here."
"Have you seen him since you've been here? Have you told him how you're working against him? Have you got the certificate with you?"
"Of course. I've got my head on like a piece of flesh and blood that belongs to me—bien sur."
She suddenly drew from her breast a folded piece of blue paper. "There it is, signed by Judge Grimshaw that married us, and there's the seal; and the whole thing can't be set aside. Look at it, if you like, petite."