“Why?”
“Because I did not desire to meet him,” she replied, adding, with a laugh, “As it was, however, he was satisfied, and went away marvelling, no doubt, at the striking resemblance.”
“Yet you told me nothing,” I observed reproachfully.
“No; I was afraid,” she replied, in a serious voice. “With you I lived on from day to day, fearing detection, dreading lest you should discover some facts regarding my past, and by their light believe me to be an adventuress. Yet, at the same time, I worked on to achieve my freedom from a yoke which had become so galling that, now I loved you, I could endure it no longer.”
“And did you not succeed in breaking asunder this mysterious bond?” I inquired, half doubtfully.
“No,” she answered, shaking her head sorrowfully. “By an untoward circumstance, against which I had not provided, I was prevented, and compelled to flee.”
“If you will divulge absolutely nothing regarding the manner in which you became possessed of the stolen convention, or the reason you have masqueraded as my wife, you can at least tell me why you received so many communications regarding clandestine meetings, and explain who was your mysterious correspondent who signed himself ‘X.’”
Her heart beat quickly; she sighed, and lowered her gaze. She strove to preserve a demeanour of calm hauteur as befitted her station, but in vain.
“You have also found those letters,” she remarked, her voice trembling.
“Yes. Tell me the truth and put my mind at ease.”