"Well, all I beg is that you will handle him tactfully," said Lady Flower. "Now, if I could only persuade you to let me talk to him...."
"Certainly not. On such a subject most certainly not," Sir Richard shouted.
"But if you jump down his throat and treat him like a schoolboy, he may do something really serious." She paused to sniff a silver vinaigrette, while the suggestion buried itself like an arrow in the heavy ground of her husband's mind.
"Really serious?" he echoed in a moment's perplexity. "Good God! you are not suggesting that he might want to marry her? That would indeed be the end of everything."
"That is precisely what I am trying to tell you," said his wife. "That is why I am trying to hint that you should not take too high a moral tone."
"Good heavens, my dear, what outrageous remarks you do make. And yet on this occasion I really believe you are justified in making them."
The baronet sank down into a chair opposite his wife and allowed her to lean over and pat his cheek as if he were a disconsolate boy.
"Don't you think it would be wiser for me to carry through this scene?" she pressed.
He waved the suggestion aside. "No, no, my dear. I appreciate your desire to spare me pain, but what I have to say to Edward must be said as from a man to a man. Hark! I hear his horse coming up the drive. Leave us together, my dear, leave us, I beg you...."
Lady Flower hesitated for one moment longer, but perceiving that her husband was not to be moved from his resolve, acquitted herself of all responsibility with a gesture of her white hands, and without a backward glance of entreaty floated from the room.