It doesn't matter.

Then I--I married.

I married the daughter of a man of position, a girl who--who loved and trusted me; who knew nothing of the past you and I know; and as I would rather have died than that she should have known anything of it, I--" "Conveniently and decently buried it," put in Falconer.

"Oh, yes, I can see the whole thing! You had blossomed out from Black Steve--" Sir Stephen rose and took a step towards the door, then remembered that he had shut it and sank down again, his face white as ashes, his lips quivering.
-- "To Sir Stephen Orme, the African millionaire, the high and lofty English gentleman with his head full of state secrets, and his safe full of foreign loans; Sir Stephen Orme, the pioneer, the empire maker--Oh, yes, I can understand how naturally you would bury the past--as you had buried your old pal and partner.

The dainty and delicate Lady Orme was to hear nothing--" Sir Stephen rose and stretched out his hand half warningly half imploringly.
"She's dead, Falconer!" he said, hoarsely.