Here she gives him a direct, piercing look, by which she plunges into her husband’s eyes when he least expects it: a sword in a heart.
“What could I have done? Made a little counterfeit money, run into debt, or embroidered a sampler?”
“Oh, dear, I don’t know. And I can’t even guess. I am too dull, you’ve told me so a hundred times.”
“There you go, and take an expression of endearment in bad part. How like a woman that is!”
“Have you concluded anything?” she asks, pretending to take an interest in business.
“No, nothing.”
“How many persons have you seen?”
“Eleven, without counting those who were walking in the streets.”
“How you answer me!”
“Yes, and how you question me! As if you’d been following the trade of an examining judge for the last ten years!”