“Where’s your cheque-book?
“Never mind your cheque-book. I took care of that.
“What business had I to take it out of your pocket?
“Every business. No, no. If you choose to go to public dinners, why - as I’m only your wife - I can’t help it. But I know what fools men are made of there; and if I know it, you never take your cheque-book again with you. What? Didn’t I see your name down last year for ten pounds? ‘Job Caudle, Esq., £10.’ It looked very well in the newspapers, of course: and you thought yourself a somebody, when they knocked the tavern tables; but I only wish I’d been there - yes, I only wish I’d been in the gallery. If I wouldn’t have told a piece of my mind, I’m not alive. Ten pounds indeed! and the world thinks you a very fine person for it. I only wish I could bring the world here, and show ’em what’s wanted at home. I think the world would alter their mind then; yes - a little.
“What do you say?
“A wife has no right to pick her husband’s pocket?
“A pretty husband you are, to talk in that way! Never mind: you can’t prosecute her for it - or I’ve no doubt you would; none at all. Some men would do anything. What?
“You’ve a bit of a headache?
“I hope you have - and a good bit, too. You’ve been to the right place for it. No - I won’t hold my tongue. It’s all very well for you men to go to taverns - and talk - and toast - and hurrah - and - I wonder you’re not all ashamed of yourselves to drink the Queen’s health with all the honours, I believe, you call it - yes, pretty honours you pay to the sex - I say, I wonder you’re not ashamed to drink that blessed creature’s health, when you’ve only to think how you use your own wives at home. But the hypocrites that the men are - oh!
“Where’s your watch?