How awful it all sounds!
The Dean.
Left a widow, you would think it natural that Georgiana Tidman would have flown to her brother, himself a widower. Not at all. Maddened, I hope, by grief, she continued the career of her misguided husband, and for years, to use her own terrible words, she was “the Daisy of the Turf.”
Sheba.
What’s that?
The Dean.
I don’t know, toy-child. But at length retribution came. Ill luck fell upon her—her horses, stock, everything, came to the hammer. That was my hour. “Come to me,” I wrote, “my children yearn for you.”
Sheba and Salome.
[With wry faces.] Oh!
The Dean.