His parting words with Iris yesterday were very dignified and touching." "I will give it to her presently," he replied, without further comment.
There was, then, no doubt.

The woman was an impostor, and the man was the thief, and the papers were the papers which had been stolen from the safe, and Iris Deseret was no other than his own Iris.

But he must not show the least sign of suspicion.
"What are you thinking about, Arnold ?" asked Clara.

"Your face is as black as thunder.

You are not sorry that Iris has returned, are you ?" "I was thinking of my engagement, Clara." "Why, you are not tired of it already?
An engaged man, Arnold, ought not to look so gloomy as that." "I am not tired of it yet.