I was alone to blame.

I ought to have remembered that you were married, and perhaps--yes, I did remember it in a way, but I could not realize it.

I had never seen or heard of your husband, or heard of your marriage.

He was a perfectly unreal person to me, and you--you seemed only the Mary Blake that I had known, and as I had known you.

I said what I did that night upon an impulse which was as unpremeditated as it was sudden.