"You say that marriages valid before and until the Laws of 1901 are, by
virtue of a repeal, now valid again?"
"That is what I say, Jeroloman. Merely that and nothing more. In
addition to the Ziegler case, let me commend to you 'The Raven.'"
"Let's get down to facts, sir. From your account of it, this alleged
marriage never could have been valid."
Dunwoodie wiped his mouth. "Dear me! I had no idea that my account of it
could lead to such interesting views. You do surprise me."
"Mr. Dunwoodie, you said the ceremony was performed by a gardener who
pretended to be a clergyman. Those were your very words."
"Yaas. Let the cat out of the bag, didn't I?"
Archly but chillily Jeroloman smiled. "Well, no, I would not care to put
it in that way, but your office-boy must know that false representations
void it."
"Good Lord!" Dunwoodie exclaimed. It was as though he had been hit in
the stomach.
Jeroloman, who was eyeing him, gave a little nod that was tantamount to
saying, "Take that!"
But Dunwoodie was recovering. He sat back, looked admiringly at
Jeroloman, clasped his hands and twirled his thumbs.
Jeroloman, annoyed at the attitude and in haste to be going, pursed his
thin lips. "Well, sir?"
With an affability that was as unusual as it was suspicious, Dunwoodie
smiled at him. "Your objection is well taken. Not an hour ago, in that
chair in which you are sitting, this lady, my client, who not once in
her sweet life has opened the Revised Statutes, and who, to save it,
could not tell the difference between them and the Code, well, sir, she
entered that same objection."
"I don't see----"
"Nor did she, God bless her! And I fear I wearied her with my reasons
for not sustaining it. But I did not tell her, what I may confide in
you, that in Hays versus The People--25 New York--it is held immaterial
whether a person who pretended to solemnise a marriage contract, was or
was not a clergyman, or whether either party to the contract was
deceived by false representations of this character. Hum! Ha!"
Jeroloman pulled at his long chin. In so doing he rubbed his hat the
wrong way. He did not notice. That he was to dress, dine early, take his
wife to the theatre, that it was getting late and that his residence was
five miles away, all these things were forgotten. What he saw were
abominations that his client would abhor--the suit, the notoriety, the
exposure, the whole dirty business dumped before the public's greedy and
shining eyes.
"Who is she?" he suddenly asked.
"Who was she?" Dunwoodie corrected. "Miss Cara."