"I would like some particulars," she said coldly. "Hugh Alston, I should
be very interested to know where she is!"

"I don't know!"

"You are mad. When were you married?"

"June nineteen eighteen," he said glibly.

"Where?"

"At Marlbury!"

"Good gracious! That is where Marjorie used to go to school!"

"Yes, it was when I went down to see her there, and--"

"You met this woman you married? And her name?"

"Joan," he said--"Joan Meredyth!"

"Joan--Meredyth!" said Lady Linden. She closed her eyes; she leaned back
in her chair. "That girl!"

A chill feeling of alarm swept over him. She spoke, her ladyship spoke,
as though such a girl existed, as though she knew her personally. And
the name was a pure invention! Marjorie had invented it--at least, he
believed so.

"You--you don't know her?"