“Indeed! Then some of them shall!”
“Oh! I’m agreeable. Nothing would give me greater pleasure. Thank God! we’ve got into a country whose people take a common-sense view of these questions, and where divorce can be obtained, not only on the quiet, but cheaper than the licence itself! So far from standing in your way, madam, I’ll do all I can to assist you. I think we can honestly plead ‘incompatibility of temper’?”
“She’d be an angel that couldn’t plead that with you.”
“There’s no danger, then, of your being denied the plea, unless fallen angels be excepted.”
“Mean insulter! Oh, mercy! to think I’ve thrown myself away on this worthless man?”
“Thrown yourself away? Ha! ha! ha! What were you when I found you? A waif, if not worse. The darkest day of my life was that on which I picked you up!”
“Scoundrel!”
The term “scoundrel” is the sure and close precursor of a climax. When passed between two gentlemen, it not unfrequently leads to a mutual pulling of noses. From a lady to a gentleman the result is of course different, though in any case it conducts to a serious turn in the conversation. Its effect in the present instance was to end it altogether.
With only an exclamation for rejoinder, the husband sprang to his feet, and commenced pacing up and down one side of the room. The wife, already engaged in like perambulation, had possession of the other.
In silence they crossed and recrossed; at intervals exchanging angry glances, like a tiger and tigress, making the tour of their cage.