"Who is the man?" I stammered.
"Siegfried."
"And why did he not marry you, if—"
"Because he is married already. His wife lives in Egypt, and he cannot get a legal divorce from her."
"And why have you married me? For we are married. The ceremony of this afternoon was real, not a comedy like that other?"
"No; we are married. When that—misfortune—happened to me Siegfried promised to marry me to some distinguished gentleman who might give me a good name and an acceptable position, so that the marriage should need no explanation."
"When was that?"
"Three months ago."
"At the time I arrived from Vienna?"
"Yes."