"Be seated, madam," said the Colonel. After a reasonable pause he began
to question her.
"You were married on the eleventh day of June, 1868, to a gentleman of
the name of Walter Clifford?"
"I was, sir."
"May I ask how long you lived with him?"
The lady buried her face in her hands. The question took her by surprise,
and this was a woman's artifice to gain time and answer cleverly.
But the ingenious Monckton gave it a happy turn. "Poor thing! Poor
thing!" said he.
"He left me the next day," said Lucy, "and I have never seen him since."
Here Monckton interposed; he fancied he had seen the curtain move.
"Excuse me," said he, "I think there is somebody listening!" and he went
swiftly and put his head through the curtain. But the room was empty; for
meantime Grace was so surprised by the lady's arrival, by her beauty,
which might well have tempted any man, and by her air of respectability,
that she changed her tactics directly, and she was gone to her father for
advice and information in spite of her previous determination not to
worry him in his present condition.
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