Ah!

CHARLES SYLVESTER.

A year or two ago the girl turned up again--walked into my studio, and
wanted to sit to me. As it happened I could have used her very well.
Just as I had given her a drink who should march in too, but my wife.

REMBRANDT TEMPENNY.

The devil.

CHARLES SYLVESTER.

I _said_ my wife--but--

REMBRANDT TEMPENNY.

Yes, go on.

CHARLES SYLVESTER.

She recognised my visitor in a moment from the photograph--abused her,
insulted me, and raised a royal row. The girl cleared out like a shot,
and I pledge you my word I have never seen her since, but from that
hour to this not a day passes without Mrs. Sylvester making some
allusion to the incident. I am the most moral man alive, and I'm
watched and suspected as if I were a criminal.