Mrs. R. Haslam. But do you really suppose he has surrendered?
Bishop. I am sure of it. I cannot pretend to your skill in reading character, dear lady, but I know a gentleman at sight.
Mr. R. Haslam. Sight.
Mrs. R. Haslam. Of course, if one put such a story into a novel, it would never be believed. That's the worst of real life.
Bishop. And yet this distressing affair reminded me strongly of the false archdeacon in "The Woman of Kent."
Mrs. R. Haslam. (Pleased.) Ah! You remember my early book?
Bishop. (Protestingly.) My dear lady! You have no more earnest student! And may I add that from the first I found that episode of the false archdeacon entirely convincing. Its convincingness was one of the very few points on which I shared the opinions of the late Mr. Gladstone. "The Woman of Kent" has always been a favourite of mine among your novels. It must have had a vast circulation.
Mrs. R. Haslam. How many copies, father?
Mr. R. Haslam. (Without looking up from the desk.) One hundred and seventy-two thousand.
Bishop. Wonderful memory!