"I suppose you think that's smart. I know there was a time when we both of us had to sail pretty close to the wind, but I thought that time had gone for ever. You've told me so over and over again. You're a woman of large fortune, of assured position, a person of importance. I should have thought that from the point of view of policy alone it would have been worth your while to have dealings with solicitors of standing only, and to have nothing to do with such a brute as that. Aren't you ashamed to have him seen going in and out of the house, or to have the servants know that he is here?" "I'm not easily ashamed--you ought to know that. Is that all you've come for?--to tell me what you think about what is no concern of yours?" "What's this I hear about your bringing out a play, and acting in it yourself?" "Who told you that?" "Winton--to my amazement!" "What did he tell you?" "Something about your producing a play of Talfourd's--Talfourd's, of all people in the world! My hat! he said that you proposed to act one of the principal parts in it yourself. Isabel, that's going too far; I won't stand it." "You won't what?" There was something in the lady's tone and in her attitude before which he obviously quailed. "I don't think that it's becoming in a woman of your position, as--as my wife." "It's not my fault that I'm your wife." "Still the fact remains that you are. By the way, has Talfourd been saying anything to you about me?" "What should he say?--except to advise me to sew you in a sack and drop you into the river." "That's just what he'd like--he's that sort of man." "Is he? He's what you never were, never will be, never could be--a gentleman. Why you don't even begin to understand what a gentleman is." "'Pon my word, I wonder that I let you talk to me like this. I don't want to quarrel with you--I hate quarrelling!--I really do. You couldn't treat me worse if I were a shoeblack." "I never met any one yet whose shoes you were worthy to black. Why, Luker's a man compared to you. He doesn't sponge upon a woman." "It's not fair of you to speak to me like this--it is not! I know you're not fond of me----" "Fond of you!--fond!" The lady flung out her arm, as if the idea of her entertaining any feeling of that kind for her husband was a grotesque one, and she laughed. As he continued his tone suggested a snarl. "I don't know that I'm particularly fond of you. You don't go out of your way to make yourself agreeable to a fellow. You've only got to say the word to be rid of me for--well, at any rate, a good long time." "What's the word? L.S.D.?" Mr. Lamb coughed. "A fellow can't go away with empty pockets." "I thought so. Out with it! What are you at?" "The truth is, Isabel, I'm not feeling very well." "If you were feeling as I'd like you to feel you'd be feeling very much worse." "That's frank! A nice thing for a wife to say to her husband! I believe you're capable of anything."