"Upon my word, Jim, I would admire you more if you did attempt something of that sort."
"Sorry I can't oblige you; but I'm a gentleman and bear an honoured name."
"An honoured name!"
"Sneerin' won't alter facts, Leah. The name of Kaimes has always been honoured----"
"Till you dragged it through the mud," interrupted Leah, in her turn. "The old Duke is all right, and Frith's a kind man, if somewhat dull. But you--oh heavens! to think that such a Saul should be amongst the prophets."
Jim, not understanding the scriptural allusion, thought he was being chaffed, a liberty which his bovine pride resented by two minutes of sulky silence. Moreover, he dreaded his wife's formidable tongue, the lash of which could cut through even his tough hide.
"How are we goin' to get through the business at this rate?" was his next contribution to the conversation. "You don't remember that I've to meet a fellow at the club to see about a bet. An' I haven't got one shillin' to rattle against another," declared Jim, pathetically.
"Well," was the sharp reply, "I have to shop this afternoon with but one miserable sovereign in my purse."
Lord Jim opened his sleepy blue eyes. "I say, you couldn't----?"
"No," said his wife, decisively. "I couldn't and I wouldn't, and I can't and I shan't. Perhaps you'll read the paper and let me think."