It doesn’t follow, because it can’t follow. But he would kill you and everybody would say of you, “Serve him right; another unsatisfactory husband disposed of!” And you would be buried, and my sister would be free and would go to Trouville in August in her weeds, and we should all have a splendid time generally.
Fraser.
[Dryly.] If we were French.
Justina.
Yes. [Going to the window.] Why aren’t we French!
Mrs. Cloys.
Justina——!
Fraser.
[Advancing to Mrs. Cloys, hesitatingly, uncomfortably—lowering his voice.] I can’t deny that I have behaved in a very poor fashion to Theophila——
Justina.