At the conclusion of the ceremony, I returned with Sarah to the
inner room, and the Reverend Mr. Rashleigh was safely taken home."
There was a pause. Mollie sat looking with knitted brows into the fire.
"Well?" questioned Miriam, sharply.
"I stayed there a week," went on Mollie, hurriedly. "It was part of the
compact, and if he was to keep his, and liberate me, I was to remain
quietly as long as I had promised. But it was not so long in passing. I
had the range of two or three rooms--all with carefully closed blinds,
however--and I had a piano and plenty of books, and as much of Miss
Sarah Grant's society as I chose. There was nothing to be got out of
her, however, and I tried hard enough, goodness knows. You might as well
wring a dry sponge."
"And the man you married?"
"Oh, he was there, too--off and on everyday; but he kept me as much in
the dark as Sarah. He always persisted in speaking French to me--that I
might fail to recognize his voice, I dare say; and he spoke it as
fluently as a Frenchman. But he was really an agreeable companion, could
talk about everything I liked to talk about, could play the piano to a
charm, and I should have liked him immensely if he had not been my
husband, and if he had not worn that odious mask.
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