And although deliberately to try and see what was written was not what he would ever have done, his eyes caught the signature, "Mimo," before he was aware of it.
Mimo--that was the brute's name! And what could he say or do?
They were not really husband and wife, and as long as she did nothing to disgrace the Tancred honor he had no valid reason for questions or complaints.
But he burnt with suspicion, and jealousy, and pain.
Then he thought over what Francis Markrute had said the first evening, when he had agreed to the marriage.

He remembered how he had not felt it would be chivalrous or honorable to ask any questions, once he had blindly gone the whole length and settled she should be his; but how Francis had gratuitously informed him that she had been an immaculate wife until a year ago, and married to an unspeakable brute.
He knew the financier very well, and knew that he was, with all his subtle cleverness, a man of spotless honor.

Evidently, then, if there was anything underneath he was unaware of it.

But was there anything?
Even though he was angry and suspicious he realized that the bearing of his wife was not guilty or degraded.

She was a magnificently proud and noble-looking creature, but perhaps even the noblest women could stoop to trick from--love! And this thought caused him to jump up suddenly--much to Zara's astonishment.