“I’ faith, I’m her kinsman, Phil.”
“You take the privileges of one.”
“Better I than another, for your sins.”
My lord gulped, as if he were taking a pill; then forced a propitiatory smile.
“Why, I confess I have sinned, George; and you mean me well, no doubt. But I’ll be damned if I’ll be lessoned, even by a cousin.”
“Then learn from a less scrupulous quarter. There’ll be plenty to gather the fruit you let hang over the wall.”
He was going, but the other stopped him; hurriedly.
“What’s that? No, tarry awhile, George. Zounds, man, can’t you see my state?”
He was so suddenly solicitous, so eager in his entreaty, that Hamilton paused in wonder, and turned to face him.
“Why,” said he, “let me look at you. I believe—anno mirabile!—I do believe you’re jealous. Philip Stanhope jealous, and of his wife!”