She (gleefully, aside). I had no idea I had married an Othello! (She sees the pillow on the sofa, and, crossing to it quietly, hides the pillow behind the sofa.)
He (aside). What did she mean by that?—(Aloud, fiercely.) Do you intend to deny—
She (interrupting). I have nothing to deny, I have nothing to conceal.
He. Do you deny that you confessed these fellows sought to make love to you?
She. I do not deny that. (Mischievously.) But I never thought you would worry about such trifles.
He. Trifles! madam? Trifles, indeed! (Glances in book, and quoting:)
“Trifles light as air
Are to the jealous confirmations strong
As proofs of holy writ.”
She (surprised aside). Where did he get his blank verse?