Mrs. Quinton Twelves.
Cleared! I wish you could have heard Sir John Clarkson’s opening speech for Theophila this morning. There was quite a murmur of approval when he sat down.
Justina.
He let that wretch, Mrs. Jack Allingham, have it—eh? He did!
Mrs. Quinton Twelves.
He said that a morbidly jealous wife is one of the saddest spectacles the world presents; but that when her jealousy leads her to attempt to blacken the reputation, the hitherto spotless reputation, of another woman—in this instance, a young lady more happily married than herself—then that jealous wife becomes a positive danger to society.
Mrs. Emptage.
I ought to have been there, ’Tina. I said it was my duty, if you remember.
Justina.
I might have gone.