"He's behaving like a brute. They've been married less than a year."
"I daresay I'd better call Aggie off," he mused.
"It's too late."
"Too late? The deuce—"
"I mean, too late to help Drusilla Browne. She's had an ideal shattered."
"It really doesn't amount to anything, Genevra," he argued. "It will blow over in a fortnight. Aggie's always doing this sort of thing, you know."
"I know, Deppy," she said sharply. "But this man is different. He's not a gentleman. Mr. Skaggs wasn't a gentleman. Blood tells. He will boast of this flirtation until the end of his days."
"Aggie's had dozens of men in love with her—really in love," he protested feebly. "She's not—"
"They've come and gone and she's still the same old Agnes and you're the same old Deppy. I'm not thinking of you or Aggie. It's Drusilla Browne."
"I see. Thanks for the confidence you have in Aggie. I daresay I know how Drusilla feels. I've—I've had a bad turn or two, myself, lately, and—but, never mind." He was silent for some time, evidently turning something over in his mind. "By the way, what does Chase say about it?" he asked suddenly.