"They're not usually like that," Mrs. Warren remarked.
"I have not found them so," he replied.
"Perhaps she believes the man will marry her."
There was odd unexpectedness in the manner in which Dr. Warren suddenly began to laugh.
"My dear wife, if you could see her! It is the incongruity of what we are saying which makes me laugh. With her ruby and her coronets and her lodging-house street, she is of an impeccableness! She does not even know she could be doubted. Fifteen years of matrimony spent in South Kensington, three girls in the schoolroom and four boys at Eton, could not have crystallised a more unquestionable serenity. And you are saying gravely, 'Perhaps she believes the man will marry her.' Whatsoever the situation is, I am absolutely sure that she has never asked herself whether he would or not."
"Then," Mrs. Warren answered, "it is the most Extraordinary Case we have had yet."
"But I have sworn fealty to her," was Warren's conclusion. "And she will tell me more later." He shook his head with an air of certainty. "Yes, she will feel it necessary to tell me later."
They went upstairs to dress for dinner, and during the remainder of the evening which they spent alone they talked almost entirely of the matter.
