The Man Who Was Nobody by Edgar Wallace

That night Marjorie slept very badly. Possibly it was the thought of--no, it could not be that. The fact that Pretoria Smith was going back to South Africa ought not to worry her, and yet she could not help thinking of the curious position she would occupy after he had gone. She would be another Lady Tynewood, she thought, a wife without a husband. A week ago that thought would have filled her with happiness and content. Today she saw only the disadvantages of the position and it worried her a little. She put on the light and tried to read. Tynewood had an electric light plant of its own, the gift of a former baronet, and she had fixed a tiny electric kettle in her bedroom which on cold hunting mornings had proved a great blessing. She got out of bed, put on her slippers and dressing-gown and filled the kettle from her water-bottle. She would make a cup of tea, she thought, and read for a while. She settled herself in her armchair and tried to concentrate her mind upon The Gentleman of France. But every minute she found herself straying back to her own domestic problem. Was she to live here with her mother always, a wife in name, with a husband who did not wish to see her, and would probably write her polite letters at long intervals, inquiring after the state of her health! Here again the prospect was not as alluring as it had been a week before, or a fortnight, she corrected herself. She had had a wild idea of suggesting to him that she should go to South Africa with him. She told herself that the voyage would benefit her, and then again she wanted to see strange lands. She could stay in Cape Town, or perhaps in Kimberley and they need see very little of one another. And then, of course, she was most anxious to meet the relative who had forced this marriage upon her, old Solomon Stedman. Marjorie Stedman and Marjorie Smith argued the matter out in her mind.

"My dear," said Marjorie Stedman, "you never wanted to see Uncle Solomon before, and when it was suggested to you two years ago that you should go to the Cape you said you hated the idea of a long sea voyage."