Read The Unsuspected for Free Online Page B

house! Are you trying to cheat him, some way? What was it you said? Something about dirty work? What are you trying to do to Grandy?"
     
    "My dear—"
     
    "Using my name! Using me!" she stormed. "You probably thought I was dead. Didn't you?"
     
    "Perhaps I did," he murmured. He was sitting still, watching her anger almost as if it couldn't hurt him personally, but he was curious about it, examining it, studying it.
     
    "You'd better tell me right away what you meant in the taxicab. About Grandy."
     
    "I was being facetious," he said in a monotone.
     
    "Oh, nonsense! Who's Jane?"
     
    "Jane is Grandy's secretary."
     
    "Where's Rosaleen?"
     
    "Why, she's . . . not there any more," he said. "If you'll try to listen, I'll tell you what I meant in the taxicab." And she caught again that faint hint of antagonism as he looked up at her.
     
    "If you please," said Mathilda grandly in her coldest voice, and she sat down stiffly.
     
    "I was simply making small talk," said Francis. "I was going on to tell you how Grandy hijacked those strawberries."
     
    "I don't believe you. Why did you all of a sudden act so collapsed? You crawled into the corner—"
     
    "What you said," he murmured wearily.
     
    "What?"
     
    He made an effort. "You said, I don't know you.'" Mathilda was silent. "If you will try to accept this weird business that you and I remember the same period of time, the same place, entirely differently. If you will just for one brief second imagine me sitting there,
    with my wife, my lost girl, found again. Trying like the very devil not to break down and bawl. Trunking in my innocence that you understood, that we were putting off the real—greeting, shall I say?—until we could be alone. And then, without any warning whatso-
    ever, you say—what you said. I don't know you. I haven't the faintest idea who you are.'"
     
    Mathilda swallowed hard. "Have you been hurt or ill lately, Mr. Howard?"
     
    He got up and went back to looking out the window with his back to her.
     
    Mathilda said with malice, "My father left me a great deal of money."
     
    He swung around. She controlled an impulse to cringe. But he was smiling. "Why, so did mine," he said pleasantly. "I'm nearly as rich as you are, sweetie pie." Astonishment crossed her face and he laughed. Then he came nearer and spoke very gently. "It was just
    love," he said. "I'm sorry you don't remember."
     
    The bell rang. It was the porter, come to get the bags. He touched his cap. "How do, Mrs. Howard."
     
    Shock sent Mathilda out of her chair. She crowded back against the desk. She was frightened now.
     
    "Just a minute," said Francis. "Jimmy, will you do us a favor? Just tell Mrs. Howard when you last saw her."
     
    "Why, lemme see, back in January. Last I saw her was Wednesday morning, right after the wedding. You gave me—"
     
    "But I'm not married!"
     
    The man looked distressed. "Honest, I never said anything. I never— I'd like to say I'm glad you got back safe, Mrs. Howard," the man stammered.
     
    Mathilda turned away. Behind her, she knew Francis was giving him money. She heard him say, "Forget about this, Jimmy. Mrs. Howard's been ill."
     
    She clenched her fists. So that would be his story. And she couldn't make a scene here, in front of a hotel servant. Or anywhere. She couldn't run to strangers or cry out that he bed. Not Mathilda Frazier. Not the long-lost heiress. No, never.
     
    She must get home. Get to Grandy, who would know what to do. Just hold on to what she knew to be so, remember that he was lying, trying for some unknown reason to—to do what? Never mind now. Keep controlled. Get to Grandy as soon as she could.
     
    But, she thought, it's not the truth. That porter is lying too.  
     
    She said, quite calmly, when the man had gone, "He was bribed."
     
    Francis made no answer. She said, with more anger than she wished to show, "I dare say you forged a marriage certificate. Why don't you show me that?"
     
    "Because the bride keeps