“I repeat that we were once very fond of each other.”

Ransom felt his perplexities growing with every moment he talked with this man.  He remembered the money which both he and Gerridge had seen in her bag,—­an amount too large for her to have retained very much on her person,—­and following the instinct of the moment, he remarked: 

“Mrs. Ransom is not the woman to hesitate when a person she loves makes an appeal for money.  She handed you immediately a large sum, I have no doubt.”

“She wrote me out a check,” was the simple but cold answer.

Mr. Ransom felt the failure of his attempt and stole a glance at Gerridge.

The doubtful smile he received was not very encouraging.  The same thought had evidently struck both.  The money in the bag was a blind—­she had carried her check-book with her and so could draw on her account for whatever she wished.  But under what name?  Her maiden one or his?  Ransom determined to find out.

“I do not begrudge you the money,” said he, “but Mrs. Ransom’s signature had changed a few hours previous to her making out this check.  Did she remember this?”

“She signed her married name promising to notify the bank at once.”

“And you cashed the check?”

“No, sir; I am not in such immediate need of money as that.  I have it still, but I shall endeavor to cash it to-morrow.  Some question may come up as to her sanity, and I do not choose to lose the only money she has ever been in a position to give me.”

“Mr. Hazen, you harp on the irresponsible condition of her mind.  Did you see any tokens of this in the interview you had together?”

“No; she seemed sane enough then; a little shocked and troubled, but quite sane.”

“You knew that she had stolen away from me—­that she had resorted to a most unworthy subterfuge in order to hold this conversation with you?”

“No; I had asked her to come, and on that very afternoon if possible, but I never knew what means she took for doing so; I didn’t ask and she didn’t say.”

“But she talked of her marriage?  She must have said something about an event which is usually considered the greatest in a woman’s life.”

“Yes, she spoke of it.”

“And of me?”

“Yes, she spoke of you.”

“And in what terms?  I cannot refrain from asking you, Mr. Hazen, I am in such ignorance as to her real attitude towards me; her conduct is so mysterious; the reasons she gives for it so puerile.”

“She said nothing against you or her marriage.  She mentioned both, but not in a manner that would add to your or my knowledge of her intentions.  My sister disappointed me, sir.  She was much less open than I wished.  All that I could make out of her manner and conversation was the overpowering shock she felt at seeing me again and seeing me so changed.  She didn’t even tell me when and where we might meet again.  When she left, she was as much lost to me as she was to you, and I am no less interested in finding her than you are yourself.  I had no idea she did not mean to return to you when she went away from this hotel.”