"Emily!" he bawled down the stairs.
"Well, I'll be going. Can't find your trousers? Admiral, it's the last straw. But we'll be revenged, Admiral. We'll found a Club; and, by George, sir, we'll call it 'The Inexpressibles'! Ta-ta for the present," and Mr. Goodwyn-Sandys retired.
But what was being discussed below when the Admiral's voice disturbed his wife? Alas! you shall hear.
"These men," Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys was saying, "are all alike. But, my dear, why not disregard his absurd humours? I have revolted from Frederic long ago."
"You don't say so!"
"It is a fact. Take my advice and do the same. It needs courage at first, but they are all cowards—oh, such cowards, my dear! Revolt. Cry 'Havoc!' and let slip—"
"My dear, I should faint."
"Oh, poor soul! Reflect! How pretty the domestic virtues are, but how impossible! Besides, how unfashionable!"
Mrs. Buzza reflected.
"I will!" she exclaimed at last. Just then her husband's voice detonated in the room above. She arose, trembling like a leaf. "Be firm," said her adviser.