“No,” I replied calmly; “I have never seen Mabel in the house. But why are you so upset at these words of mine? Was it not within your knowledge that Gilbert was seen in public with your wife, that—”
“Of course it was. I’m not an idiot, man,” he cried, as, crimson with anger, he rose and paced the room in feverish haste. “But I have been misled, fooled, and by heaven! those who have deceived me shall pay dearly. I won’t spare them. By God! I won’t,” and he brought down his fist so heavily upon the dining-table that some flowers were jerked from the épergne.
Then halting unsteadily, and pouring out some brandy into a liqueur glass, he swallowed it at one gulp, saying:
“Let us go to the drawing-room, but remember, not a word to her. She must not know that you have told me,” and he led the way to where his wife awaited us.
He entered the room jovial and smiling as if no care weighed upon his mind, and throughout the evening preserved a pleasant demeanour, that seemed to bring full happiness to Mabel’s heart.
I knew she longed to declare her contentment, now that a public scandal was avoided and they were reconciled, and although she was unable, I recognised in her warm hand-shake when I departed an expression of thanks for my promise to conceal the truth.