But I should not—and it really did not seem fair. "I rather thought of putting on a green shade myself," I said. It had only just occurred to me.
"Don't be absurd, Theodore!" she replied. "What can you want with a green shade?"
"My eyes are not strong," I said, "and with those electric lights so close to the cage, I might blink or even close my eyes. A green shade, like your bridal veil, would conceal the act!"
"As if anybody ever heard of a bridegroom with a green shade over his eyes! I certainly will not enter that cage if I am to be made publicly ridiculous!"
"Do I understand," I said, very gravely, "that you refuse to enter the lion-cage?"
"With a man in a green shade? Most certainly I refuse. Not otherwise."
"Then you will sacrifice my life to mere appearances? Ah, Lurana, that is only one more proof that vanity—not love—has led you to this marriage!"
"Why don't you own at once that you'd give anything to get out of it, Theodore?"
"It is you," I retorted, "you, Lurana, who are secretly dreading the ordeal, and you are trying to throw the responsibility of giving up the whole thing on me—it's not fair, you know!"
"I want to give up the whole thing? Theodore, you know that isn't true!"