England -- Fiction; Honeymoons -- Fiction; Love stories; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Voyages and travels -- Fiction
"Oh, that's all right," he said. "I should have said the same myself. It
wasn't exactly a lie. It's a thing most people wouldn't make any bones
about, only I thought you were different, that's all. And that was one
of the things that made me feel it was fair to hunt you down, if I
could--tit for tat, so to speak--and, besides, it was fun trying to see
what I _could_ find out. Then there's another thing I must tell you, I
used to think it would be fun to be other things out of
books--highwaymen and detectives and things--and I got a lead when I saw
you at Cookham. After that I tracked you down like any old Sherlock
Holmes, and I'm afraid at Kenilworth I behaved more like a highwayman
than a respectable solicitor--for that's what I am."
"That's forgiven and forgotten," she told him.
"Well, I tracked you to Warwick, and when I saw your name in the
visitors' book--Mr. and Mrs. Basingstoke--"
"But it wasn't--"
"It was, I assure you. Well, when I saw that I didn't know what to
think, but I saw, however it was, it was all up with me; but I didn't
want to see it, so I followed you to Kenilworth, and got a chance I
didn't expect to behave like a cad and an ass, and behaved like them.
But I don't think you know how pretty you are--and I didn't believe you
were married, and all the things I'd thought while I was driving you to
Tunbridge came up into my head and turned themselves inside out,
somehow, and I felt what a fool I'd been, and I lost my head. And then
you told me you wouldn't tell him, for fear he should hurt me; and
that's really what I came here to say. That's what I can't stick. I can
take care of myself. I want you to tell him anything you like--see?
Here's my card--and he can write to me, and I'll meet him anywhere he
likes and let's see who's the best man. To set out to be a knight and
all that, and end up with hiding behind a woman--and you to be the
woman--no, I really can't stick it. So will you tell him?"
"I'll tell him everything," she said, "and he won't want to see who's
the best man, and I don't want him to want it. And I don't want you to,
either. You were a very kind knight-errant--but you weren't such a very
good detective, or you'd have found out--"
"What?"
"I'll tell you, if you'll promise to give up wanting to find out who's
the best man. Will you?"
"I'll do anything you like as long as you don't think I'm afraid of him,
and don't let him think it, either. I don't think much of him, and I
don't know whether you'll believe it, but it was that as much as
anything set me to the detective business. I wanted to--to--I thought
you wanted looking after. And then I acted like a brute--but I won't go
on about that. Now tell me what it was I didn't find out?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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