"Guy," fixing her powerful black eyes on his face, "do you need to be told who that masked bride was?"
"Mollie Dane!" cried the doctor, impetuously.
"Mollie Dane," said Mrs. Walraven, calmly.
"By Jove!"
Dr. Oleander sat for a instant perfectly aghast.
"I only wonder it did not strike you at the time. It struck me, and I whispered my suspicion in her ear as we passed into the drawing-room. But she is a perfect actress. Neither start nor look betrayed her. She stared at me with those insolent blue eyes of hers, as though she could not possibly comprehend."
"Perhaps she could not."
Mrs. Walraven looked at him with a quiet smile—the smile of conscious triumph.
"She is the cleverest actress I ever saw off the stage—so clever that I am sometimes inclined to suspect she may have been once on it. No, my dear Guy, she understood perfectly well. Mollie Dane was the extraordinary bride Mr. Rashleigh married that extraordinary night."
"And who the devil," cried Dr. Guy, using powerful language in his excitement, "was the birdegroom?"