"I did not observe. Her face was all I saw. She was looking directly at
me as I stepped into the room."

"I see. She had taken off her veil and trusted to your attention being
caught by her strange features,--as it was. But that dress was brown;
I'm sure of it. She was the very woman. Otherwise the mystery is
impenetrable. A deep plot, Mr. Ransom; one that should prove to you that
Mrs. Ransom's motive in leaving you was of a very serious character. Do
you wish that motive probed to the bottom? I cannot do it without
publicity. Are you willing to incur that publicity?"

"I must." Mr. Ransom had risen in great excitement. "Nothing can hide the
fact that my bride left me on our wedding-day. It only remains now to
show that she did it under an influence which robbed her of her own will;
an influence from which she shrank even while succumbing to it. I can
show her no greater kindness, and I am not afraid of the result. I have
perfect confidence in her integrity"--he hesitated, then added with
strong conviction--"and in her love."

The detective hid his surprise. He could not understand this confidence.
But then he knew nothing of the memories which lay back of it. Not to him
could this grievously humiliated and disappointed man reveal the secrets
of a courtship which had fixed his heart on this one woman, and aroused
in him such trust that even this uncalled-for outrage to his pride and
affection had not been able to shake it. Such secrets are sacred; but the
reflection of his trust was strong on his face as he repeated:

"Perfect confidence, Mr. Gerridge. Whatever may have drawn Mrs. Ransom
from my side, it was not lack of affection, or any doubt of my sincerity
or undivided attachment to herself."