"But documents don't die," she interrupted; "don't forget that!"
"Not for worlds. For instance, I remember that in a certain church register may be seen the marriage lines of Alice Ford and—ahem—myself. And somewhere, not far away, there must be on record the statement that Mr. Arthur, of Oakley, has wedded the incomparable Mrs. Torrance, a blonde widow—ahem. Where did you go, my dear, when you left my bed and board so very unceremoniously?
"'What had I done, or what hadst thou,
That through this weary world till now
I've walked with empty arms.'"
He stretched out those members tragically.
"And I don't forget that I was never legally your wife, as you had another living," cried Cora, ignoring the latter part of his speech.
"No; of course not. Does Mr. John Arthur know that you were once my—"
"Dupe? no," she interrupted. "Come, time passes; tell me what you know, and what you want."
"Softly, softly, Mrs. Arthur. I know enough to insure me against being turned out of Oakley by you; and I want a wife and a fortune."
"I don't understand you."