“‘And now, what do you want?” says she, seating herself in front of her desk,
and leaving him standing, first on one leg and then on the other, twiddling his hat in his hands.
“‘I’ve been a bad husband to you, Susan,’ begins he.
“‘I could have told you that,’ she answers. ‘What I asked you was what you wanted.’
“‘I want for us to let bygones be bygones,’ says he.
“‘That’s quite my own idea,’ says she, ‘and if you don’t allude to the past, I shan’t.’
“‘You’re an angel, Susan,’ says he.
“‘I’ve told you once,’ answers she, ‘that my name’s Mrs. Wrench. I’m Susan to my friends, not to every broken-down tramp looking for a job.’
“‘Ain’t I your husband?’ says he, trying a bit of dignity.
“She got up and took a glance through the glass-door to see that nobody was there to overhear her.