“I wasn’t glum. That sort of thing rather misses me—that’s all. I’ve not got the bent of mind for it.” “You’re so clever, you never see anything to make you wonder, and so wise, you never see anything to make you laugh,” she said. His eyes grew rather round, but Medora was smiling and had not meant the speech to be acerb. “I see plenty to make me wonder in London. Who doesn’t? And I like a good joke; but these stage people didn’t seem funny to me. And honestly, the longer I live, the less I see to laugh at in the world, for a thinking man with high resolves to better things. People laugh for two reasons, I believe: to throw their neighbours off the scent of the truth; or else because they are rattle-pated, light-minded fools, with no more in them than an empty pot. The ‘empties’ make the most noise, don’t they? All the same, I like to hear you laugh, because you laugh honest and it means you’re happy. And God knows if there’s one thing I want to make happy before everybody on earth, it’s you, Medora.” She relented before this speech and took his arm. He was gallant and very jealous for her. He was also very tender and gentle. She acknowledged his consideration as they sat at supper; but he spoiled all by explaining the very special reason for his care and attention. “The position is a most delicate one,” he said, “and naturally I must do nothing to make it more so. You’re at the mercy of the world now, in a manner of speaking, Medora—a defenceless creature—not maid, wife or widow, as they say. And so it’s up to me to be extra awake and very quick to champion you in every way I can think.” Medora felt that if this were indeed the case, Jordan and not she might be said to stand in the limelight. She, in fact, must remain as much in the shade as possible. But he proceeded and explained his future course of action. It surprised her exceedingly. “Talking of that and all I owe you for coming to me, you may be sure I shall pay the debt in a proper manner, Medora. I honour you far too much to treat you with anything but the greatest respect and delicacy, I hope; and I certainly would demean myself, or you, to live with you as a husband till we’re married. But let the world think as it pleases—which is mostly evil—we shall know what we really are, and we’ll always be—a self-respecting, high-minded pair. It’s easy enough to be better than the world thinks you, because it judges others by itself and the mass of people have a very base standard. The law itself is disgusting and bestial in this matter. It sticks to the old, shameful conditions and demands adultery before divorce. So there must be evidence of that—we’re ordered to sink to furnishing evidence of it; but we’re made of much too fine stuff to sink to the heathen reality. We’re a cut above the dirty law—you and me. We want to live our future lives on a plane of mutual respect and admiration. We don’t mean all the future to be spoiled by the memory of human weakness.”