“He looked ridiculous enough, I’m sure. But that is it, Tony. You will not see how comic it was--but probably that is the fault of your bad digestion. You caught your husband in a moment of weakness, and you have seen him make himself look ridiculous. But that ought not to outrage you to such an extent. It ought to amuse you a little, perhaps, but bring you closer together as human beings. I will say that I don’t mean you could have just let it pass with a laugh and said nothing about it--not at all. You left home; that was a demonstration of a rather extreme kind, perhaps--a bit too severe--but, after all, he deserved it. I imagine he is feeling pretty down in the mouth. I only mean that you must get to take the thing differently--not so insulted--a little more politic point of view. We are just between ourselves. Let me tell you something, Tony. In any marriage, the important thing is, on which side the moral ascendency lies. Understand? Your husband has laid himself open, there is no doubt of that. He compromised himself and made a laughable spectacle--laughable, precisely because what he did was actually so harmless, so impossible to take seriously. But, after all, his dignity is impaired--and the moral advantage has passed over to you. If you know how to use it wisely, your happiness is assured. If you go back, say in a couple of weeks--certainly I must insist on keeping you for ourselves as long as that--if you go back to Munich in a couple of weeks, you will see--” “I will not go back to Munich, Thomas.” “I beg your pardon?” he asked, putting his hand to his ear and screwing up his face as he bent forward. She was lying on her back with her head sunk in the pillow, so that her chin stood out with an effect of severity. “Never,” she said. And she gave a long, audible outward breath and cleared her throat, also at length and deliberately. It was like a dry cough, which had of late become almost a habit with her, and had probably to do with her digestive trouble. There followed a pause. “Tony,” he said suddenly, getting up and slapping his hand on the arm of his chair, “you aren’t going to make a scandal!”