isturbed my conscience a
good deal.
Still it seemed the only thing to do under our circumstances.
Quebec, then, was my objective, and with no further clue than the
dog-collar. There were two trains, I found, at three and at nine. The
first, which I proposed to take, would bring us to our destination soon
after nine the next day, but our morning was to be a busy one, and it
would be necessary to make our preparations quickly.
A little snow was on the ground, but the sun shone brightly, and I felt
that the shadows of the night lay behind us.
CHAPTER IV
SIMON LEROUX
With Jacqueline's arm drawn through mine I paid a visit to the bank in
which I had deposited my legacy, and drew out fifteen hundred dollars,
next depositing Jacqueline's money to my own account. It amounted to
almost exactly eight thousand dollars.
The receiving teller must have thought me an eccentric to carry so
large a sum, and I know he thought that Jacqueline and I had just been
married, for I saw him smile over the entry that he made in my bank
book.
I wanted to deposit her money in her own name, but this would have
involved inquiries and explanations which I was not in a position to
satisfy. So there was nothing to do but deposit it in my own, and
afterward I could refund it to her.
I said that the receiving teller smiled--he wore that indescribable
congratulatory look with which it is the custom to favor the newly
married.
In fact, we were exactly like a honeymoon couple. Although I
endeavored to maintain an air of practical self-assurance there was now
a new shyness in her manner, an atmosphere of undefinable but very real
sweetness in the relationship between us which set my heart hammering
at times when I looked at her flushed cheeks and the fair hair, blown
about her face, and hiding the glances which she stole timidly at me.
It was like a honeymoon departure, only with another man's wife; and
that made the sentiment more elevated and more chivalrous, for it set a
seal of honour on me which must remain unbroken till the time arrived.
I wondered, as we strolled up Fifth Avenue together, how much she knew,
what she remembered, and what thoughts went coursing through her head.
That child-like faith of hers was marvellously sweet. It was an
innocent confidence, but it was devoid of weakness. I believed that
she was dimly aware that terrible things lay in the past and that she
trusted to her forgetfulness as a sh
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