“I am quite at a loss to understand you, Sir Eustace. I suppose you are joking.”
“I am an amusing fellow sometimes, when I take the trouble, but I can assure you that I am not trying to be funny this minute.”
“I hoped that as I was a good way off you had not recognized me, Sir Eustace.”
“Recognized you where?”
“At Marlow, Sir Eustace?”
“At Marlow? What the devil were you doing at Marlow?”
“I thought you understood that—”
“I’m beginning to understand less and less. Go back to the beginning of the story and start again. You went to Florence—”
“Then you don’t know after all—and you didn’t recognize me!”
“As far as I can judge, you seem to have given yourself away needlessly—made a coward of by your conscience. But I shall be able to tell better when I’ve heard the whole story. Now, then, take a deep breath and start again. You went to Florence …”
“But I didn’t go to Florence. That is just it.”
“Well, where did you go, then?”
“I went home—to Marlow.”
“What the devil did you want to go to Marlow for?”
“I wanted to see my wife. She was in delicate health and expecting—”
“Your wife? But I didn’t know you were married?”