MRS. G. Because I can't be sure of you, my dear. You've done this before.
GLADSTONE. This time it has been done for me. My own say in the matter has been merely to acquiesce.
MRS. G. Ah! so you say! And others—others may say it for you; but—
GLADSTONE. Anno Domini says it, my dear.
MRS. G. Anno Domini has been saying it for the last twenty years. Much heed you paid to Anno Domini.
GLADSTONE. You never lent it the weight of your counsels, my own love— till now.
MRS. G. I know, William, when talking is useless.
GLADSTONE. Ah! I wonder—if I do.
MRS. G. No; that's why I complain. Twenty years ago you said you were going to retire from politics and take up theology again—that you were old, and had come to an end. Why, you were only just beginning! And it will always be the same; any day something may happen—more Bulgarian atrocities, or a proposal for Welsh disestablishment. Then you'll break out again!
GLADSTONE. But I am in favour of Welsh disestablishment, my dear—when it comes.