"Do I? Then I ought to be ashamed of myself. Men talk enough in their waking hours without talking in their sleep. What do I say, Marion?"
He asked the question carelessly enough, but there was an anxious look in his dark eyes.
"I cannot tell; I hardly remember," said Lady Chandos; "but you are always asking some one to forgive you and see you. Have you ever offended any one very much, Lance?"
"I hope not," he replied. "Dreams are so strange, and I do not think they are often true reflections of our lives. Have you any further reason for saying I am growing tired of you? It is a vexed question, and we may as well settle it now as renew the argument."
"No, I have no other reason. Lance, you are not cross with me, dear?"
"No, I am not cross; but, at the same time, I must say frankly I do not like the idea of a jealous wife; it is very distasteful to me."
Lady Marion raised her eyes in wonder.
"Jealous, Lance?" she repeated. "I am not jealous. Of whom could I be jealous? I never see you pay the least attention to any one."
"Jealous wives, as a rule, begin by accusing their husbands of cooling love, want of attention, and all that kind of thing."
"But, Lance," continued the beautiful woman, "are you quite sure that there is no truth in what I say?"