"Sometimes—but in such a rush! And we'll be back soon now. She's got to get ready for the Cardinal's reception."
"Great doings, I hear. Amalasuntha dropped in on me yesterday. She says Lita's all agog again since that rotten Michelangelo's got a film contract, and your father's in an awful state about it. Is he?"
"The family are not used yet to figuring on the posters. Of course it's only a question of time."
"I don't mean in a state about Michelangelo, but about Lita."
"Father's been a perfect brick about Lita."
"Oh, he has, has he? Very magnanimous.—Thanks; no—no cigar... Of course, if anybody's got to be a brick about Lita, I don't see why it's not her husband's job; but then I suppose you'll tell me..."
"Yes; I shall; please consider yourself told, won't you? Because I've got to get back to the hospital."
"The modern husband's job is a purely passive one, eh? That's your idea too? If you go to him and say: 'How about that damned scoundrel and your wife'—"
"What damned scoundrel?"
"Oh, I don't say ... anybody in particular ... and he answers: 'Well, what am I going to do about it?' and you say: 'Well, and your honour, man; what about your honour?' and he says: 'What's my honour got to do with it if my wife's sick of me?' and you say: 'God! But the other man ... aren't you going to break his bones for him?' and he sits and looks at you and says: 'Get up a prize-fight for her?'... God! I give it up. My own son! We don't speak the same language, that's all."