Vyner winced at the epigram, which indeed was cruel and insulting.
"It is a pity you did not think of the great disparity in our ages before you married me, Mrs. Vyner."
"A great pity."
"I have often thought so of late."
"How much better had you thought so before you made me an offer!"
"It was the greatest mistake I ever made, but—
'Sic visum Veneri, cui placeat impares
Formas atque animos sub juga aënea
Sævo mittere cum joco!'"
Vyner had often made that quotation to himself, and now launched it with great satisfaction, as was evident by the noisy pinch of snuff with which he closed it.
Mrs. Vyner shrugged her shoulders.
"You have spoken," he said, "of incompatibilities, and I fear they exist. But, Mrs. Vyner, if you have destroyed my domestic happiness, you shall not destroy my future comfort. I will not be made a laughing-stock abroad, and be made miserable at home. I say I will not. I am come, therefore, to offer you an alternative."