“I just saw you come in.”
“From the garden.”
“Why don’t you go out?”
The Duke made a stand. “I don’t care to, while this wretched business is in big letters at every corner.”
“What is that to us? You should be above taking notice of these halfpenny rags. If you are afraid of walking on the pavements, have a brougham and drive down to the Carlton. You ought to hear what people are saying.”
“I am,” returned the Duke, with infinite sense, “the last person in town to hear what people are really saying.”
“You can go and tell them what you think about the whole disgusting business,” said the Duchess.
“I’m hanged if I do,” the Duke returned. “If they have any sense they can guess that.”
“Pray what do you expect then I am going to do?” the Duchess demanded.
The Duke intimated by a shrug that he had formed no definite anticipations as to his consort’s line of conduct.