I believe I simply stared in answer to this. Calm, good, and noble he looked, standing there with his truthful eyes, speaking his apparently truthful words. It seemed that we must be at cross-purposes.
"When you spoke of the bar that existed to your marrying, you put it upon the hinted-at misfortunes, the disgrace attaching to your family, Mr. Chandos. But you never alluded to the real bar."
"There is no other bar. But for that, I would like to make you my wife to-morrow. What have you got in your head?"
I knew what I was beginning to have in my temper. "If you continue to detain me here, sir, and to say these things, I will go straight with my complaint to Mrs. Chandos."
"To Mrs. Chandos! What good would that do?" he coolly questioned.
"Oh, sir, spare me! I did not think you would behave so. Don't you see, putting me and my feelings out of the question, how all this wrongs her?"
He looked at me strangely, his countenance a puzzle. "What has Mrs. Chandos to do with it? She is nothing to you or to me."
"She is your wife, sir."
His elbow displaced some ornament on the mantelpiece; he had to turn and save it from falling. Then he faced me again.
"My wife, did you say?"