"Favour me with an account of her—with her name, her parentage, her place of abode."
"Certainly." Mr. Briggs calmly took a paper from his pocket, and read out in a sort of official, nasal voice:—
"'I affirm and can prove that on the 20th of October, A.D. ———, (a date of fifteen years back) Edward Fairfax Rochester of Thornfield Hall, in the county of ———, and of Ferndean Manor, in ———shire, England, was married to my sister, Bertha Antoinetta Mason, daughter of Jonas Mason, merchant, and of Antoinetta his wife, a Creole—at ———church, Spanish-town, Jamaica. The record of the marriage will be found in the register of that church—a copy of it is now in my possession. Signed, Richard Mason.'"
"That—if a genuine document—may prove I have been married, but it does not prove that the woman mentioned therein as my wife is still living."
"She was living three months ago," returned the lawyer.
"How do you know?"
