After a short silence, the couple began to talk of mutual friends, and although the ghost listened long and hard, Mr. Funk did not refer to Alice again.

Seriously worried, he took himself off to Manchester Square. In the first place, he thought, Alice must have run mad to even consider leg-shackling herself to such an old barrel of wind. And secondly, what was it that Funk had found out about Alice? The truth? God forbid!

To Alice’s surprise, when the Duke was ushered into the drawing room, Miss Fadden made her excuses, saying she must retire for the night. Miss Fadden had grown very fond of Alice and felt the girl might have a chance to unburden herself if she were left alone. “And if she does not,” thought Miss Fadden grimly, “Then I will do the unburdening for her.”

No sooner had she left than the Duke moved into the attack. The contrast of the young and beautiful Alice, glowing in an opera gown of jonquil satin trimmed lavishly with Mechlin lace, to the vision of the portly merchant he had just left, made his voice harsher than he had intended it to be.

“What on earth possessed you to tie yourself to that aged bag, Funk?” he demanded.

“I like him,” said Alice, staring miserably at her white kid Kemble slippers. “He is kind… and… and fatherly.”

“It sounds incestuous. Is he fatherly in thine bed, heh?”

“There is nothing like that, nor will there be.”

“Fiddle! There will be nothing like that for the simple reason that the old turd does not wish to marry you.”

“You lie!” said Alice passionately. “He must.”

The Duke’s eyes narrowed. “Why must he? Are things gone as far as that? Are you with child?”

“No! No!” Alice raised her hands to her flaming face. “Why must you always think the worst?”

“Then what other reason is there?”

“I must get married and find a home,” said Alice, not looking at him. “I am lonely.”

“Then marry for love, damme!”

“Love?” said Alice dryly, raising her eyes to his. “What is love? It is frustrated lust, nothing more. What is marriage? Legalized lust.”

“Do not be so cynical. It does not become you.”

“I was quoting you,” said Alice. “Do you not remember?”

There was a long silence. The Duke sat down and stared into space. He sat so still that his many jewels seemed to burn in the candlelight without a flicker.

“Perhaps I was wrong,” he said at last.

“No,” said Alice, suddenly desperate to see if she could hurt him as much as he had hurt her by his long absence. “Love does not exist. That much I have learned. I would settle instead for a comfortable home.”

“And children,” he said harshly. “Children fathered by Funk.”

“Perhaps. If I am lucky,” said Alice, staring at him, hard-eyed.