"Certainly, I am O'Flannigan, music teacher and prompter at Drury Lane, but as to being your husband, may Heaven confound me if I ever set eyes on you before!"
"You have never set eyes on me? You have never set eyes on Molly MacMurragh, to whom you were married by the priest at Bray, in Ireland? You have never set eyes on the mother of your six children?"
Mrs. Marsham loosened her hold upon the unhappy O'Flannigan's arm.
"Can this be true?" she cried. "Can this woman really be Mrs. O'Flannigan?"
"My dear madam, I protest! There is no Mrs. O'Flannigan! This woman is either a fool or a jade; she has been hired by my enemies!"
"A fool! a jade! If there is any jade here it is this bold hussy who has helped herself to other people's belongings, and seduced a married man from his duty!"
"Mercy!" gasped Mrs. Marsham in horror.
"I do not know," cried the woman, "what prevents me from tearing off her mask, and leaving the marks of my nails upon her as the headsman brands forgers!"
She advanced menacingly, and shook her clinched fist in Mrs. Marsham's face, who feebly cried, "Help! help!"
A circle had been formed; those who could not see elbowed their neighbors, or mounted upon chairs, while such exclamations were heard as—