“That you have never loved any other woman. Have you?”
“How can you ask? Believe me, you are the only girl I have ever loved.”
That evening, after dinner, Morrow and Clara, the newly affianced, about starting from the hotel to the boardwalk, were at the top of the hotel steps when a man appeared at the bottom.
Morrow uttered a cry of recognition.
“Why, Haddon, old boy, I'm glad to see you. Let me introduce you to my wife that is to be.”
Haddon stood still and stared. Clara, too, remained motionless. After a moment, Haddon said very quietly:
“You're mistaken. Let me introduce you to my wife that is.”
Morrow looked at Clara. She turned her gray eyes fearlessly on Haddon.
“You, too, are mistaken,” she said. “I had a husband before you married me. He's my husband still. He's doing a song and dance act in a variety theatre in Chicago. I'm sorry about all this, Mr. Morrow. I really like you. Good-bye.”
She ran back into the hotel and arranged to make her departure on an early train next morning.