” Chapter XIV “THIS IS MY WIFE” Anna, notwithstanding her momentary fright in the middle of the day, was in high spirits. “It can’t make any difference to you, and there are not half a dozen people in Paris who could tell us apart. His aunt, here at McClintock's? It was unbelievable. Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations. If this idiotic marriage is binding then I will be her friend. Afterwards, it may be different. You may go back, Marthe.
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