"He has not returned," she said.
"You mean----?"
"I mean my husband."
"Frankly, I think it is almost as well that he should not have returned--at least, while I remain an inmate of your house. You can scarcely expect me to pass over his extraordinary behaviour in silence."
She stood staring at me in that strained, eager manner which I had noticed overnight. Her hands were clasped in front of her, her fingers were twisting and untwisting themselves in what seemed pure nervousness.
"I have been married to Mr. Barnes twelve months." As she paused, I nodded--I did not know what else to do. "I have regretted it ever since. There is a mystery about him."
"I am bound to admit that there is a good deal about him which is mysterious to me; but whether it is equally mysterious to you is another question."
"He is a mystery to me--he always has been." She paused again. She drew in her lips as if to moisten them. "You are a stranger to me, but I want a confidant. I must speak to some one."
"I beg that you will not make a confidant of me--I do assure you----"
As she interrupted me, her voice rose almost to a scream.