"You know nothing about it," said Leon, "whether it was assumed or not.
And as to the marriage, it was to me. I held her hand; I put the ring
on her finger; she married me, and no other. But I'm not going to talk
about that. I've simply come here to insist on your active help. I
won't stand any more of this humbug. I've already told you that I know
you."

Wiggins remained silent for some time.

"So you did," said he at last, in a low voice; "but what of that?"

"Why, only this: you had to let me do what I chose. And I intend to
keep a good hold of you yet, my fine fellow."

Wiggins placed both his elbows on the table in front of him, and looked
fixedly at Leon for some time.

"You did say once," said he, slowly, "that you knew me, and the
possibility that it might be true induced me to tolerate you here for
some time. I trusted to Miss Dalton's innate good sense to save her from
any danger from one like you; but it appears that I was mistaken. At the
present moment, however, I may as well inform you that you have not the
slightest idea who I am, and more than this, that I have not the
slightest objection to tell you."

"Pooh!" said Leon, with ill-disguised uneasiness, "it's all very well
for you to take that tone, but it won't do with me. I know who you are."

"Who am I?"