She shook her head.
"No."
She was standing by the dressing-table, nervously fingering a 27 little silver box, and for a moment she could not speak, then she said in desperation:
"Chris—I want to tell you—I know all about our Wedding!"
He echoed her words blankly.
"You know all about it. You funny kid! I suppose you do. Why——"
He stopped, struck by something in her eyes.
"What do you mean, Marie Celeste?"
She turned round and faced him squarely. "I mean—I know why you married me," she said.
"Why?" The hot blood rushed to his face. "Who told you?" he asked sharply.