Duncan laughed. He did not in the least understand. He had the idea that Radnor had been drinking.
"Burke," he said; "upon my life, this is the first time I ever saw you when you had taken too much to drink."
"Is that the way you are going to reply to me?" asked Radnor, with all the insistence of a thoroughly trained newspaper man. "You'd best use me right, you know. It's a great 'beat,' and I want all of it. I'd like to talk with the bride, too, if you can fix--"
"But I don't know what the blazes you are talking about, man."
"I am talking about the little ceremony that took place this evening at the Little Church Around the Corner, and was indulged in between you and the former Miss Brunswick; as a sort of entr'acte to the opera of Salome," said Radnor, with slow distinctness.
Duncan stiffened where he stood. The smile left his face, and his eyes narrowed, while his clean-cut features seemed to harden in every line of them.
"Radnor," he said with a slow drawl, which to those who knew him best betrayed intense anger, "you will be good enough to explain to me, here and now, in plain English and in as few words as possible, exactly what you mean."
"I mean," was the ready retort, "that you and Miss Beatrice Brunswick were married to-night at the Little Church Around the Corner, between two of the acts of Salome. I mean that I've got the straight tip, and I know it to be true. I wish to quote you, if possible, in what I shall write about it for the morning papers. I'd like to get a statement from the bride, too."
"Are you crazy, Radnor?" asked Duncan, bending forward, his face white and set, and his eyes hard and cold; for Roderick Duncan, with all his apparent quietude, was a man whom it was not safe to try too far.
"No, I'm not crazy. I'm just telling you what's what. I'll get the whole story, and what's more, I'll print it in the morning papers! If you wish to say anything in explanation of the incident, I shall be glad to quote you; but, otherwise, I shall take the liberty of drawing my own inferences, and assuming my own conclusions, from the story I have heard. I tell you, Mr. Duncan, I've got it straight, and I know it to be true."
"It is not true," said Duncan, quietly. "The person who told you such a story as that lied."
Radnor shrugged his shoulders, and laughed, ironically.
"I don't know that I blame you for denying it," he said, "but I happen to know differently. If you choose to deny it, I'll send my card inside to Mrs. Duncan, and we'll see, then, what we shall see. You can't bluff me, Mr. Duncan. I'm not that sort. If you won't talk, perhaps the former Miss Brunswick, will, and--"