"Have done with this philosophy," interrupted my lord with darkening eyes, "and do not seek to play the monitor with my affairs—I'll not take it, Marius."
"There are things I will not take, my lord. I am at liberty to see what all the town sees, and to say what all the town says."
"Not to my face," said the Earl, "nor yet to my wife."
"Leave the Countess out of it, my lord—even if she should show her unhappiness; she has given no bond to be dumb as well as patient."
My lord unclasped his cloak and flung it over a chair.
"You are a fool, Marius," he said haughtily; "but you must keep your folly to yourself, nor become my lady's puppet defender; her unhappiness, and her patience, and her dumbness are not matters of yours."
"In a manner they are matters of mine," answered the other with a kind of fierce heaviness. "I have been to blame—we, both of us, have wronged her."
"This is intolerable!" cried my lord. "By Gad, you will anger me."
"And yet I only speak the truth."