He felt as though he were behaving with audacity; it
was necessary to remind himself again and again that this was no
other than Lilian Allen--nay, Lilian Northway; whose hand he had
held, whose lips he had kissed.
A thrill went through him.
"But you are my wife!" he exclaimed, earnestly. "What right have you
to call yourself Mrs. Quarrier? Have you pretended to marry that
man?"
Lilian's eyes fell; she made no answer.
"You must tell me--or I shall have no choice but to go and ask
him. And if you have committed bigamy"----
"There has been no marriage," she hastened to say. "I have done what
I thought right."
"Right? I don't know how you can call that right. I suppose you were
persuaded into it. Does he know all the truth?"
She was racked with doubt as to what she should disclose. Her
thoughts would not be controlled, and whatever words she uttered
seemed to come from her lips of their own accord.
"What do you expect of me?" she cried, in a voice of utmost
distress. "I have been living like this for more than two years.
Right or wrong, it can't be changed--it can't be undone. You know
that. It was natural you should wish to speak to me; but why do you
pretend to think that we can be anything to each other? You have a
right to my money--it shall be yours at once."
He stamped, and his eyes shot anger.
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