"You must answer me, Annabel," she continued. "You must tell me the
truth, please. It is necessary."
Annabel rose slowly to her feet, walked to the door as though to see
that it was shut, and came back with slow lagging footsteps.
"There was a man called Montague Hill," she said hoarsely, "but he is
dead."
"Then there is also," Anna remarked, "a Montague Hill who is very much
alive. Not only that, but he is here in London. I have just come from
him."
Annabel no longer attempted to conceal her emotion. She battled with a
deadly faintness, and she tottered rather than walked back to her
seat. Anna, quitting her chair, dropped on her knees by her sister's
side and took her hand.
"Do not be frightened, dear," she said. "You must tell me the truth,
and I will see that no harm comes to you."
"The only Montague Hill I ever knew," Annabel said slowly, "is dead. I
know he is dead. I saw him lying on the footway. I felt his heart. It
had ceased to beat. It was a motor accident--a fatal motor accident
the evening papers called it. They could not have called it a fatal
motor accident if he had not been dead."
Anna nodded.
"Yes, I remember," she said. "It was the night you left Paris. They
thought that he was dead at first, and they took him to the hospital.
I believe that his recovery was considered almost miraculous."
"Alive," Annabel moaned, her eyes large with terror. "You say that he
is alive."
"He is certainly alive," Anna declared. "More than that, he arrived
to-day at the boarding-house where I am staying, greeted me with a
theatrical start, and claimed me--as his wife. That is why I am here.
You must tell me what it all means."
"And you?" Annabel exclaimed. "What did you say?"
"Well, I considered myself justified in denying it," Anna answered
drily. "He produced what he called a marriage certificate, and I
believe that nearly every one in the boarding-house, including Mrs.
White, my landlady, believes his story. I am fairly well hardened in
iniquity--your iniquity, Annabel--but I decline to have a husband
thrust upon me. I really cannot have anything to do with Mr. Montague
Hill."
"A--marriage certificate!" Annabel gasped.
Anna glanced into her sister's face, and rose to her feet.
"Let me get you some water, Annabel. Don't be frightened, dear.
Remember----"
Annabel clutched her sister's arm. She would not let her move. She
seemed smitten with a paroxysm of fear.
"A thick-set, coarse-looking young man, Anna!" she exclaimed in a
hoarse excited whisper. "He has a stubbly yellow moustache, weak eyes,
and great horrid hands."
Anna nodded.
"It is the same man, Annabel," she said. "There is no doubt whatever
about that. There was the motor accident, too. It is the same man, for
he raved in the hospital, and they fetched me. It was you, of course,
whom he wanted."