“I spoke very plainly to her, a day or two ago. I told her that she would lose you if she didn’t mend her ways.”
“And what did she say?”
“She said you had a right to do as you liked with your body.”
“Indeed! And she, too? A fine theory! My hair is fast turning grey, mother!”
“It’s a good old scheme to make a wife jealous. It’s generally kill or cure, for if there is any love left, it brings it out.”
“There is, I know, there is!”
“Of course, there is. Love doesn’t die suddenly; it gets used up in the course of the years, perhaps. Have a flirtation with Ottilia, and we shall see!”
“Flirt with Ottilia? With Ottilia?”
“Try it. Aren’t you up in any of the subjects which interest her?”
“Well, yes! They are deep in statistics, now. Fallen women, infectious diseases. If I could lead the conversation to mathematics! I am well up in that!”