"Ostensibly, monsieur."
There was no need to hide my feeling from Dubisson, so I sat with my
chin sunk low and thought it over. I was ill pleased. I had been long
and openly in Madame Bertheau's train, and this was a land of gossips.
I turned to the lieutenant.
"Madame de Montlivet, where is she housed?"
He looked relieved. "She has a room next door. Starling we have taken
in with us. I would rather have a tethered elk. He is so big he fills
the whole place."
Now, square issues please me. "Dubisson, why has no one offered to
take me to my wife?"
The man laughed rather helplessly. "'T is from no lack of respect for
either of you, monsieur. But you said nothing, and Starling"----
"Yes, it is from Starling that I wish to hear."
"Well, Starling has said---- Monsieur, why repeat the man's gossip?"
"Go on, Dubisson."
"After all, it is only what the Englishman has said. Madame, so far as
I know, has said nothing. But Starling has told us that yours was a
marriage of form only,--that the woman consented under stress, and
now"----
"And now regretted it?"
"I am only quoting Starling. Monsieur, would you like to see your
wife?"
I rose. "Yes. Will you send word and see if I may?"
Dubisson bowed and left me with a speed that gave me a wry smile.
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