“Do you mean to say you are in that bed yet?”
“Why, of course.”
“Come out of it instantly. I should think you would take some little care of your life, for my sake and the children’s, if you will not for your own.”
“But my love—”
“Don’t talk to me, Mortimer. You know there is no place so dangerous as a bed, in such a thunder-storm as this,—all the books say that; yet there you would lie, and deliberately throw away your life,—for goodness knows what, unless for the sake of arguing and arguing, and—”
“But, confound it, Evangeline, I’m not in the bed, now. I’m—”
[Sentence interrupted by a sudden glare of lightning, followed by a terrified little scream from Mrs. McWilliams and a tremendous blast of thunder.]
“There! You see the result. Oh, Mortimer, how can you be so profligate as to swear at such a time as this?”
“I didn’t swear. And that wasn’t a result of it, any way. It would have come, just the same, if I hadn’t said a word; and you know very well, Evangeline,—at least you ought to know,—that when the atmosphere is charged with electricity—”
“Oh, yes, now argue it, and argue it, and argue it!—I don’t see how you can act so, when you know there is not a lightning-rod on the place, and your poor wife and children are absolutely at the mercy of Providence. What are you doing?—lighting a match at such a time as this! Are you stark mad?”