“Yet, after all, I don’t know why you hold such a good opinion of this fellow Lovel. He sticks to no trade,--he gets a country girl into trouble and has to marry her,--not a very creditable record, it seems to me.” He was leaning back in his chair, with his finger-tips together. “And, judging by his stock, he has no right to beget sons,--better if he did not associate with women at all,--such people should be allowed to die out.” “So Mrs. Quince was saying. Perhaps he feels the same himself,” said Clare in a contained voice. “It looks like it! a child born after four months of marriage. I am bound to say, my dear, your suggestion isn’t very convincing. But there, what should you know of the lusts of these country young men? Animals, merely. Forgive me if I seem self-righteous. I feel strongly,--very strongly.” He leaned forward and patted her. “You can understand that I don’t like to think of my Clare contaminated by such company.” “You mean Lovel?” “Most certainly I mean Lovel.--Why do you look at me so darkly, Clare?” “Did I look at you darkly? I didn’t mean to. My thoughts were far away.” “And where....” “Ah, Richard, mayn’t I have my thoughts to myself?” “By all means, Clare. I hope, my dear, that no one has ever accused me of being a tyrant. Of course your thoughts are your own.--But you don’t resent, do you, the things I have been saying of Lovel?” “I am only tired of the whole subject.” “Yes,--of course,--naturally,--I quite understand that. Mrs. Quince is an old gossip. I must tell her that it really doesn’t interest you to be informed every time a woman in the village has a baby. It doesn’t does it?” “No, of course not,--but don’t say anything to Mrs. Quince, I beg you.” “But I can’t have my wife bothered by my old gossip of a housekeeper. I daresay she meant it well, thinking you were interested in Lovel.” “Richard, please,--let us leave Lovel now,--I shall begin to scream if I hear his name mentioned again, I warn you.” “Clare. You try to joke, but the idea of saying that wouldn’t come into your head if there were not some truth in it.” “Well, I told you I was tired of the subject.” “You are talking now like an irritable woman.” “Am I? But I _am_ a woman, and not a man, and therefore I daresay as irritable as all other women.” “You mean that men can be every whit as irritable,--myself, for example.” “Now you are putting words into my mouth that I never said. Is it a guilty conscience, Richard?” “You persist in joking when I want you to be serious!” “Oh, Richard, what a childish conversation. Instead of sitting here and talking, let us....” “Well, what? Let us what?” “Nothing, I’ve thought better of it.” “Let us go out, you were going to say. Always the same folly! Have you any idea of the depth of the snow? Out, indeed!” “I never said it.”