“But in a case like this I do not care to act on my own discretion alone,” he protested. “They are evidently awaiting a reply in Dawson City.”
“Let them wait,” I said. “I don’t want to bother my head over matters in which I can have no possible concern. This alleged matrimonial alliance of mine is of far more importance to me than all the gold in the Klondyke.”
“Well, the lady is your wife, so why worry further about it?” he said.
“And how do you know, pray?”
“Because I was present at the ceremony.”
I looked at him for a moment, unable to utter further words.
“I suppose you’ll tell me next that you were my secretary in my bachelor days?” I said at last.
“Certainly I was.”
“And you say that you were actually present at the church, and saw me married?” I cried, absolutely incredulous.
“I was. You were married at St. Andrew’s, Wells Street. It was a smart wedding, too, for Mrs Fordyce was very well known in society, and had a large circle of friends.”