"That's nothing at all to do with it. How do I know who bows to you when I'm not by? Everybody of course. And if they don't look at you, why you look at them. Oh! I'm sure you do. You do it even when I'm out with you, and of course you do it when I'm away. Now, don't tell me, Caudle--don't deny it. The fact is, it's become such a dreadful habit with you, that you don't know when you do it, and when you don't. But I do. "Miss Prettyman, indeed! What do you say? "YOU WON'T LIE STILL AND HEAR ME SCANDALISE THAT EXCELLENT YOUNG WOMAN? "Oh, of course you'll take her part! Though, to be sure, she may not be so much to blame after all. For how is she to know you're married? You're never seen out of doors with your own wife--never. Wherever you go, you go alone. Of course people think you're a bachelor. What do you say? "YOU WELL KNOW YOU'RE NOT? "That's nothing to do with it--I only ask, What must people think, when I'm never seen with you? Other women go out with their husbands: but, as I've often said, I'm not like any other woman. What are you sneering at, Mr. Caudle? "HOW DO I KNOW YOU'RE SNEERING? "Don't tell me: I know well enough, by the movement of the pillow. "No; you never take me out--and you know it. No; and it's not my own fault. How can you lie there and say that? Oh, all a poor excuse! That's what you always say. You're tired of asking me, indeed, because I always start some objection? Of course I can't go out a figure. And when you ask me to go, you know very well that my bonnet isn't as it should be--or that my gown hasn't come home--or that I can't leave the children--or that something keeps me indoors. You know all this well enough before you ask me. And that's your art. And when I DO go out with you, I'm sure to suffer for it. Yes, you needn't repeat my words. SUFFER FOR IT. But you suppose I have no feelings: oh no, nobody has feelings but yourself. Yes; I'd forgot: Miss Prettyman, perhaps--yes, she may have feelings, of course. "And as I've said, I dare say a pretty dupe people think me. To be sure; a poor forlorn creature I must look in everybody's eyes. But I knew you couldn't be at Mr. Prettyman's house night after night till eleven o'clock--and a great deal you thought of me sitting up for you--I knew you couldn't be there without some cause. And now I've found it out! Oh, I don't mind your swearing, Mr. Caudle! It's I, if I wasn't a woman, who ought to swear. But it's like you men. Lords of the creation, as you call yourselves! Lords, indeed! And pretty slaves you make of the poor creatures who're tied to you. But I'll be separated, Caudle; I will; and then I'll take care and let all the world know how you've used me. What do you say? "I MAY SAY MY WORST? "Ha! don't you tempt any woman in that way--don't, Caudle; for I wouldn't answer for what I said.