“After all, I guess I don’t mind telling you in the least,” she returned coolly, with a sudden perverse gratification in revealing what she knew he could not like in her. Also she felt that here was another detail by which she could make Clifford feel the utter finality of the break between them. “Jack and I came to New York intending to be married the next day. But the very evening of the day we arrived, Jack’s father unexpectedly came to town and appeared at the Biltmore where Jack is staying.”
“Was that before or after the evening I saw you at the Grand Alcazar with Mr. Loveman?”
“You saw me there the evening of the day of my return. Jack was to have had dinner with me that night,” she added, “and had reserved the table and had asked his friend, Mr. Loveman, and then he got tangled up with a friend and could not come. It was that same evening that his father arrived in town. I believe this is simple and clear.”
“As far as it goes. But why did you go into hiding?”
“Isn’t that rather obvious?” she returned with her cool frankness. “Jack and I were going to keep our marriage secret—perhaps for a long time. The appearance of his father, with the announcement that he was going to stay with Jack, naturally delayed our marriage. I insisted that it be postponed until his father was away and there was no danger of immediate discovery.”
“And Jack?”
“Jack was reckless. He was all for getting married right away. But I refused to take the risk. Also, under the circumstances, it didn’t seem particularly wise to give the father a chance to find out about me by our appearing openly together.”
“But you yourself could have gone out openly alone, or with friends.”
“Oh, of course,” she said dryly—“and have run the risk of Jack and his father seeing me in public, and learning all about me. No, thank you—the only way for me has been to keep under cover for the present.”
Clifford had felt a great start, but he had suppressed it; and he managed to say quite casually: “Of course Jack Morton doesn’t know who you really are?”