“Awfully good of you,” Carpentaria sneered. “But I assure you that these attempts on my life interest me enormously. I wouldn’t miss them for a fortune. I’m beginning rather to like them. One gets used to an atmosphere of mystery. No, Mr. President, I shall not go; but Juliette will go. I shall send Juliette away to-morrow.”
Ilam bit his lip.
“That remains to be seen,” said he. “She likes me. I should make her a good husband. Why do you object to me?”
“Why do you court her in the dark? Why do you force her to have secrets from me?”
“That’s neither here nor there,” said Ilam. “I should make her a good husband.”
“But what sort of a mother-in-law would she have if she married you?” demanded Carpentaria.
Ilam made no reply.
“And,” continued Carpentaria, “I don’t think it’s a good thing for a woman to have a husband who is always seeing ghosts.”
“Seeing ghosts?”
“Don’t you see ghosts?” sneered Carpentaria. “N—no.”