Amélie looked at him curiously. “I wonder if you are really ignorant of all this?” she asked.
“You say that you have witnessed it, so it cannot be my wife of whom you speak, as you have never seen us together. I certainly know of no other woman who cares two straws about me. It must be that you have taken some one else for me.”
“No; I am not mistaken.”
Armstrong’s curiosity proved stronger than his resentment. “And you have actually seen this?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Where and when?”
The contessa’s mood had become serious. She realized that she was playing with dangerous weapons. “If you are sincere in what you say, Mr. Armstrong, you would not thank me for telling you.”
“But you have gone so far that now I must insist.” Helen’s words suddenly came back to him as he spoke. The contessa saw a change of expression come over his face, and she held back her answer.
“Was it at the Laurentian Library?” Armstrong asked, impulsively.
Amélie smiled triumphantly. “It is really better for me not to answer that question, my dear Mr. Armstrong. I only meant to pay you a compliment, and I fear that I have touched on something I should have avoided. You will forgive me, will you not?”