“Find 'em instructive?”
“Very. They cut deeper into human nature than our writers dare. Her turning away her lover now is just the act of what the French call a masterly woman—maitresse femme. She has got rid of him to close the mouth of scandal; that is her game.”
“Well,” said Wheeler, “you certainly are very ingenious, and so fortified in your opinions that with you facts are no longer stubborn things; you can twist them all your way. If he had stayed and buzzed about her, while her husband was incarcerated, you would have found her guilty: he goes to Rome and leaves her, and therefore you find her guilty. You would have made a fine hanging judge in the good old sanguinary times.”
“I use my eyes, my memory, and my reason. She is a monster of vice and deceit. Anything is fair against such a woman.”
“I am sorry to hear you say that,” said Wheeler, becoming grave rather suddenly. “A woman is a woman, and I tell you plainly I have gone pretty well to the end of my tether with you.”
“Abandon me, then,” said Bassett, doggedly; “I can go alone.”
Wheeler was touched by this, and said, “No, no; I am not the man to desert a friend; but pray do nothing rash—do nothing without consulting me.”
Bassett made no reply.
About a week after this, as Lady Bassett was walking sadly in her own garden, a great Newfoundland dog ran up to her without any warning, and put his paws almost on her shoulder.
She screamed violently, and more than once.