“You have been fooled,” she said. “She cannot be his wife, since I am.”
He turned round upon her suddenly. “Perhaps it’s you that have been fooled.”
“What do you mean?”
“Perhaps her story is true, and I may still have the pleasure of asking for your pardon. The registers in Somerset House will tell me.”
“Do you mean to accuse my husband of marrying me while his first wife was alive? I would not believe a hundred registers!”
“Either he or she must be lying,” said Gerard.
“She is the liar!” cried Irene, thrilled with the magnificence of her faith. “I suppose she told it you in the same calm frame of mind as when I last saw her.”
It was Irene’s one ungenerosity. But a woman is not apt to choose her weapons when the man she loves is slandered by another woman. Primitive instincts get beyond control. But her words were an illumination to Gerard.
“That very evening she came to tell us her secret.”
“I will never believe it. And I would sooner die than insult him by asking. There is no need for us to talk further. I appreciate your motive in coming.”