"For the last time," said Keith. "There'll be no scene."
It was the supreme test of her confidence in him. Without hesitation,
she rose, preceded him into the hall, and advanced firmly toward the
screen door through which the little general could be seen. He was
standing at the top step, his back to them. At the sound of the
opening door he turned.
"This is Mr. Donald Keith," said Mildred. "He wishes to speak to you."
The general bowed; Keith bent his head. They eyed each other with the
measuring glance. Keith said in his dry, terse way: "I asked Miss
Gower to come with me because I wish her to hear what I have to say to
you."
"You mean my wife," said the general with a gracious smile.
"I mean Miss Gower," returned Keith. "As you know, she is not your
wife."
Mildred uttered a cry; but the two men continued to look each at the
other, with impassive countenances.
"Your only wife is the woman who has been in the private insane asylum
of Doctor Rivers at Pueblo, Colorado, for the past eleven years. For
about twenty years before that she was in the Delavan private asylum
near Denver. You could not divorce her under the laws of Colorado. The
divorce you got in Nevada was fraudulent."
"That's a lie," said the general coldly.
Keith went on, as if he had not heard: "You will not annoy this lady
again. And you will stop bribing Stanley Baird's wife to make a fool
of herself. And you will stop buying houses in the blocks where Baird
owns real estate, and moving colored families into them."
"I tell you that about my divorce is a lie," replied Siddall.
"I can prove it," said Keith. "And I can prove that you knew it before
you married your second wife."
For the first time Siddall betrayed at the surface a hint of how hard
he was hit. His skin grew bright yellow; wrinkles round his eyes and
round the base of his nose sprang into sudden prominence.
"I see you know what I mean--that attempt to falsify the record at
Carson City," said Keith. He opened the screen door for Mildred to
pass in. He followed her, and the door closed behind them. They went
into the drawing-room. He dropped into an easy chair, crossed his
legs, leaned his head back indolently--a favorite attitude of his.
"How long have you known?" said she. Her cheeks were flushed with
excitement.
"Oh, a good many years," replied he. "It was one of those accidental
bits of information a man runs across in knocking about. As soon as
Baird told me about you, I had the thing looked up, quietly. I was
going up to see him to-morrow--about the negroes and Mrs. Baird's suit."
"Does Stanley know?" inquired she.
"No," said Keith. "Not necessary. Never will be. If you like, you
can have the marriage annulled without notoriety. But that's not
necessary, either."