"Perhaps it is. Hereafter I shall sleep less, and after this, my dear wife, I will follow your advice in everything."
"Then, my dear, you will be a good husband. If I should always find you so, I would not have so many causes for complaint."
"Have you any complaint to make now?" inquired Mr. Fabian, anxiously.
Mr. Fabian was in a state of fearful suspense. The air to him appeared populated with evil spirits.
"I did not speak thus for the purpose of troubling you, dear Fabian, it would not be just for me to choose this moment, when you feel so repentant, to remind you of other moments when you do not seem impressed with the worth of your wife."
"Yes, yes, that would indeed be cruel, for it is true, really true, that—that—"
"What, Fabian, good Fabian?"
"That I never before have so much esteemed and adored you, my dear, dear—" He was unable to proceed.
"Ah! Fabian, that is the true spirit. You at last understand how happy you are."
"Yes, as happy as the condemned sinner," sighed Fabian; but in such a manner that his wife heard the first word only.