“I pause upon this pre-liminary fact,” he said seriously, “because this fact alone would give us the victory, were we aspiring after victory and not after truth.  As far as the personal and domestic problem holds us, that problem is solved.  Dr. Warner and I entered this house at an instant of highly emotional diff’culty.  England’s Warner has entered many houses to save human kind from sickness; this time he entered to save an innocent lady from a walking pestilence.  Smith was just about to carry away a young girl from this house; his cab and bag were at the very door.  He had told her she was going to await the marriage license at the house of his aunt.  That aunt,” continued Cyrus Pym, his face darkening grandly—­“that visionary aunt had been the dancing will-o’-the-wisp who had led many a high-souled maiden to her doom.  Into how many virginal ears has he whispered that holy word?  When he said `aunt’ there glowed about her all the merriment and high morality of the Anglo-Saxon home.  Kettles began to hum, pussy cats to purr, in that very wild cab that was being driven to destruction.”

Inglewood looked up, to find, to his astonishment (as many another denizen of the eastern hemisphere has found), that the American was not only perfectly serious, but was really eloquent and affecting—­ when the difference of the hemispheres was adjusted.

“It is therefore atrociously evident that the man Smith has at least represented himself to one innocent female of this house as an eligible bachelor, being, in fact, a married man.  I agree with my colleague, Mr. Gould, that no other crime could approximate to this.  As to whether what our ancestors called purity has any ultimate ethical value indeed, science hesitates with a high, proud hesitation.  But what hesitation can there be about the baseness of a citizen who ventures, by brutal experiments upon living females, to anticipate the verdict of science on such a point?

“The woman mentioned by Curate Percy as living with Smith in Highbury may or may not be the same as the lady he married in Maidenhead.  If one short sweet spell of constancy and heart repose interrupted the plunging torrent of his profligate life, we will not deprive him of that long past possibility.  After that conjectural date, alas, he seems to have plunged deeper and deeper into the shaking quagmires of infidelity and shame.”

Dr. Pym closed his eyes, but the unfortunate fact that there was no more light left this familiar signal without its full and proper moral effect.  After a pause, which almost partook of the character of prayer, he continued.

“The first instance of the accused’s repeated and irregular nuptials,” he exclaimed, “comes from Lady Bullingdon, who expresses herself with the high haughtiness which must be excused in those who look out upon all mankind from the turrets of a Norman and ancestral keep.  The communication she has sent to us runs as follows:—­