“If my dear pet were convinced that her worthless husband was living in open adultery with a woman of doubtful repute—if she had indisputable proofs of this, then I think she would give up all thoughts of him for now and hereafter.”
“But haven’t you told her?”
“I have made her acquainted with as much as I thought it prudent to do.”
“But she has witnessed quite enough with her own eyes. Did you not tell me that this man was at the opera with the shameless hussy with whom he has taken up?”
“Really, my lord, you must pardon me for a moment. The fact of a gentleman and lady being seated side by side in the stalls of the opera-house does not in itself incriminate them. The lady might be a relative, a friend’s wife, a country cousin, or what not.”
“Ah, true—there is something in that.”
“Very well. As you admit my argument thus far, it is not in any way surprising that Aveline should refuse to believe her husband to be as guilty as we know him to be.”
“But hang it, madam, you can tell her, I suppose?”
“I can, of course; but I have not done so.”
“And why not, pray?”