“Look,” she said to her companion, who stood near her, “how like he is to thee.”
“So?” he asked, quickly.
“Yes, do you not see? Is there not a striking similarity in form? Is not the nose the same as thine? The face clean shaven; the hair of like color?”
“But his dress.”
He spoke as though to change her opinion, and then added, “Dost thou mean that there is enough resemblance for the one to be taken for the other?”
This time his anxiety for an affirmative answer could have been read by the veriest tyro.
“Like? Yes, much like, and when you met here I was startled by the resemblance,” she answered decidedly; and in a strain like that of one whose mind has dwelt long and intensely upon the subject, she continued, “I could not fail to comment on it when I met him shortly after I last saw you and when I believed we were done with each other for ever. It was this that drew my attention to him, and prevailed upon by his apparently sincere professions of love, I became his wife.”
“When was this marriage, Anne?” he interrupted.
“Had you not heard of it?”
“No,” he answered, “nor even entertained a suspicion that you had so soon forgotten me.”