“Well,” he continued, “Q went to his office each day after that with absolute regularity. As far as I can gather there was nothing either in his surroundings or his conduct to indicate that any peculiar fate was impending over him. He saw Miss M regularly, and the time fixed for their marriage drew nearer each day.”
“Each day?” I repeated in astonishment.
“Yes,” said Annerly, “every day. For some time before his marriage I saw but little of him. But two weeks before that event was due to happen, I passed Q one day in the street. He seemed for a moment about to stop, then he raised his hat, smiled and passed on.”
“One moment,” I said, “if you will allow me a question that seems of importance—did he pass on and then smile and raise his hat, or did he smile into his hat, raise it, and then pass on afterwards?”
“Your question is quite justified,” said Annerly, “though I think I can answer with perfect accuracy that he first smiled, then stopped smiling and raised his hat, and then stopped raising his hat and passed on.”
“However,” he continued, “the essential fact is this: on the day appointed for the wedding, Q and Miss M were duly married.”
“Impossible!” I gasped; “duly married, both of them?”
“Yes,” said Annerly, “both at the same time. After the wedding Mr. and Mrs. Q——”
“Mr. and Mrs. Q,” I repeated in perplexity.
“Yes,” he answered, “Mr. and Mrs. Q—- for after the wedding Miss M. took the name of Q—- left England and went out to Australia, where they were to reside.”