"Ask him about our honeymoon," Horner suggested.
"Where did we go on our honeymoon?"
"Er, Atlantic City," Overman-in-Horner said triumphantly.
"How long did we stay?"
"Two weeks."
"Who," Jane asked, "was in the hotel room next door?"
"Who remembers a thing like that?" Overman said after a while.
Horner grinned. "I do," he said, and named some old friends of theirs.
Jane made no comment, but asked other questions. They became increasingly intimate, and Overman could not answer most of them. But Horner, of course, answered them all.
Finally, Jane said, "I—I don't know how it can be." Her eyes were filling with tears as she looked down at Overman. "You—you're my husband. You should be. But you don't know the things he would know. It's impossible, but you're not—not—"