"I won't address her in terms of affection, if that's all you're afraid of. Besides, I should rather like to hear what she says to her peccant husband."
"Not for anything, Mr. Wild.... Hush! here she is.... Is that you, Alicia? Wheeee! Wheee!... I'm exceedingly sorry, my dear ... no, I wasn't laughing—something wrong with the wire.... Well, how are you?... That's good ... I do hope you haven't been worrying.... What?... Oh ... oh ... ah...." ("She says I'm not worth worrying about!" "Cover it UP, you fool! She'll hear you!") ... "Eh?... no ... nobody else here, my love ... quite alone—quite alone ... the wire...." ("What's that? Magnetic storm?") ... "Magnetic storm, Alicia! Plug's not firmly in, perhaps.... Well, you're all right, then? Anything else?... Oh, me! Oh, I'm in capital form.... What?... Yes, that's all.... What?... Oh, I thought I'd better ring up to let you know how I was getting on.... Yes ... yes ... I shall come back presently.... No ... no ... absolutely no.... I can't possibly tell you my present address ... but you needn't worry. I'm quite all right ... eh?... No ... I'm not unfeeling—this is just my holiday. I shall be back in a few weeks. I send you my love. Good-by."
"That do, Mr. Wild?"
"You might send a kiss, eh? Usual thing ... try again—I bet she's not left the wire."
"Hello ... hello! You there, Alicia?... Wheeee!... I just rang up—wheee—to send you a kiss.... Good-by."
"So we've set her mind at rest, Bangs. You lost your funk pretty soon!"
"Well, Mr. Wild, somehow ... it's not quite the same thing talking to Alicia from a distance ... I felt quite brave!"
"Perfect hero!... Now we've settled that, let's go and find the dragon in the garden."
They found the vicar, but not the dragon, who was lashing her tail in the pantry, impotent, speechless, aflame with anger. To hear herself called a dragon, and by a pair of unprincipled adventurers! One of them, it appeared, was a man who had run away from his wife; the other, an idle fribble who might be anything. "Thank Heaven I have no daughter in the house!" thought Mrs. Peters in a paroxysm of resentful propriety. "Who could feel safe with such men about? And this comes of Charles picking up chance acquaintances in a common tavern! Oh, I must go and tell him—expose them at once! The impudent hypocrites!"
On the threshold she paused. Was it because, despite her justification, she did not feel anxious to mention the vigil in the pantry? Or was it due to a wifely consideration for a husband's weakness? She chose to believe the latter. "Charles will not have the moral courage to expel them from the vicarage!" she reflected. "He is pitifully craven in such matters. I must manage it myself.... I had better wait and watch.... They may have any designs.... Perhaps I had better wait, and then ..." A smile, terrific in severity and menace, writhed her lips. Some signal act of vengeance was evidently maturing. "Yes! I will wait!"