I started to speak with her on that subject, but was interrupted.
(Puckers brow and thinks.) You are her husband. Why don't you take her in hand yourself?
(Enters Mrs. Starkweather from rear, looking about, bowing, then locating Starkweather and proceeding toward him.)
Chalmers
What can I do? She has a will of her own—the same sort of a will that you have. Besides, I think she knows about my—about some of my—indiscretions.
Starkweather
(Slyly.)
Harmless indiscretions?
(Chalmers is about to reply, but observes Mrs. Starkweather approaching.)
Mrs. Starkweather