Mr. Corbin bowed to the young man, and remarked: 

“I was about to explain to Mrs. Montague that some proofs regarding the identity of Miss Montague have recently come into my possession.”

“Do you mean to assert that you have proofs that will establish the theory which you advanced to me during your last call here?” Mrs. Montague demanded, with a derisive smile.

“That is exactly what I mean, madame,” Mr. Corbin replied.

Mrs. Montague tossed her head scornfully.

She was sure that the only proof in existence of Mona Forester’s legal marriage was at that moment safely lying in the secret compartment of that little table up stairs.  She had not seen it since her return, for she had been too busy to look over those things again and destroy such as would be dangerous, if they should fall into other hands; but she had seen them so recently she felt very secure, and did not dream that she had been guilty of any carelessness regarding them.

She knew, also, that up to the evening of Louis’ last declaration to her, Mona had no proof to produce, and, supposing that she had but just returned from Havana, she did not imagine that either of the lawyers or Ray had seen her to learn anything new from her, even if she had discovered anything.

“Well, I should like to see them,” she responded, contemptuously, but with a confident air that would have been very irritating to one less assured than Mr. Corbin.

He quietly drew a folded paper from his breast-pocket, opened and smoothed it out, and going to the woman’s side, held it before her for examination.

She was wholly unprepared for the appalling revelation that met her eyes, and the instant that she realized that the paper was the identical certificate, which she believed to be in her own possession, she lost every atom of her color.  A cry of anger and dismay broke from her, and snatching the parchment from the lawyer’s hand, she sprang to her feet, crying, hoarsely: 

“Where did you get it? how did it come into your possession?”

“Pray, madame, do not be so excited,” Mr. Corbin calmly returned, “and be careful of that document, if you please, for it is worth a great deal to my young client.  Mr. Raymond Palmer supplied me with this very necessary link in the evidence required to prove Miss Montague’s identity.”

“And how came Raymond Palmer to have a paper that belonged to me?” demanded Mrs. Montague, turning to him with an angry gleam in her eyes.  “I have supposed him to be a gentleman—­he must be a thief, else he never could have had it.”