“Yesterday six years ago!” he echoed, looking at me in blank bewilderment. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that if what you’ve told me is really the truth,” I cried, agape in wonder, “then it is the most astounding thing I’ve ever heard of. Are you absolutely certain of the date?”
“Certain? Why, of course.”
“Of the year, I mean?”
“Positive. It’s eighteen ninety-six.”
“For how long, then, have you been my secretary?” I inquired.
“Nearly five years.”
“And how long have I lived in this place?”
“For nearly four.”
“And that woman,” I demanded, breathlessly—“is she actually my wife?”