Gerald Goddard realized that there was no use arguing with his wife in that mood, while he also felt that his case was rather weak, and so he shifted his ground.
"But you must have plotted this thing long ago, for your play was written, and your characters chosen before we left the city," he remarked.
"Well?"
"But you said you had two reasons; what was the other?"
"Emil's love for the girl. He became infatuated with her from the moment of his coming to us, as you must have noticed."
"Yes."
"Well, he tried to win her—he even asked her to marry him, but she refused him. Think of it—that little nobody rejecting a man like Emil, with his wealth and position!"
"Well, if she did not love him, she had a right to refuse, him."
"Oh, of course," sneered madam, irritably. "But you know what he is when he once gets his heart set upon anything, and her obstinacy only made him the more determined to carry his point. He appealed to me to help him; and, as I have never refused him anything he wanted, if I could possibly give it to him—"
"But this was such a wicked—such a heartless, cowardly thing to do!" interposed Mr. Goddard, with a gesture of horror.