"Who married you?"
"A justice of the peace."
"Why not a minister?"
"Mr. Fairfax preferred the justice."
Garrison remained by the window stubbornly.
"You said the man is crazy. What did you mean?"
"Didn't you see?" she answered. "That light in his eyes is insanity. I thought it a soul-light shining through, though it worried me often, I admit. We were married at two in the afternoon and went at once to the station to wait there for the train. He bought the tickets and talked in his brilliant way until the train arrived. It only stopped for a moment.
"He put me on, then a spell came over him suddenly, I don't know what, and he pushed me off the steps, just as the train was moving out—and said the very thing you heard him say in here—and rode away and left me there, deserted."
She told it all in a dry-voiced way that cost her an effort, as Garrison felt and comprehended. He had turned about, in sheer sympathy for her predicament.
"What happened then?"