Anna the Adventuress

"Child!" he cried. "You do not know what you say. This is part of a

dream--some evil fancy. Think! You could not have done it."

She shook her head deliberately, hopelessly.

"I think that I know very well what I am saying," she answered. "I

went to Anna's rooms because I felt that I must see her. He was there

concealed, waiting her return. He recognized me at once, and he

behaved like a madman. He swore that I was his wife, that chance had

given me to him at last. John, he was between me and the door. A

strong coarse man, and there were things in his eyes which made my

blood run cold with terror. He came over to me. I was helpless.

Beside me on Anna's table was a pistol. I was not even sure whether

it was loaded. I snatched it up, pointed it blindly at him, and

fired."

"Ah!" Sir John exclaimed.

"He fell over at my feet," she continued. "I saw him stagger and sink

down, and the pistol was smoking still in my hand. I bent over him.

Anna had told me that he carried always with him this bogus marriage

certificate. I undid his coat, and I took it from his pocket. I burned

it."

"But the marriage itself?" Sir John asked. "I do not understand."

"There was no marriage," she answered. "I was very foolish to have

been deceived even for a moment. There was no marriage, and I hated,

oh, how I hated the man."

"Did any one see you leave the flat?" he asked.

"I do not know. But David Courtlaw has been here. To-night they say he

will be conscious. He will say who it was. So there is no escape. And

listen, John."

"Well?"

"I went from Anna's flat to Nigel Ennison's rooms. I told him the

truth. I asked him to take me away, and hide me. He refused. He sent

me home."

Sir John's head bent lower and lower. There was nothing left now of

the self-assured, prosperous man of affairs. His shoulders were bent,

his face was furrowed with wrinkles. He looked no longer at his wife.

His eyes were fixed upon the tablecloth.

There was a gentle rustling of skirts. Softly she rose to her feet. He

felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she

leaned over him. He did not look up, so he did not know that in her

other hand she held a glass of wine.

"Dear husband," she murmured. "I am so very, very sorry. I have

brought disgrace upon you, and I haven't been the right sort of wife

at all. But it is all over now, and presently there will be some one

else. I should like to have had you forgive me."