Mr. W. Well, my love, whatever it is, they've got it, and they seem to like it, so far, well enough. But—
Mrs. W. A truce—a truce, I say.
Mr. W. A truce, by all means; but as for Walter Litherland—
Mrs. W. Walter Litherland never marries daughter of mine, Mr. Watmuff. It is enough. I have said it. I married to gratify my parents. Emily will marry to gratify me.
Mr. W. My love, may I, with all deference, venture to remind you that your respected and beloved parents were, when I first had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, what may be called "no more."
Mrs. W. Silence, mocker of the dead. They had gone to their reward. But I lived to obey their wishes.
Mr. W. Oh, and was I one of them?
Mrs. W. In the abstract, yes. What did I find you?
Mr. W. My dear, don't allude to that. You did not find me much; but I am not an avaricious man, and as I said at the time, what I looked for in a wife was not so much money as—
Mrs. W. Sordid one! Ever thinking of your worldly goods. When I ask, what did I find you? I allude to your moral condition. You were a smoker of tobacco. Do you deny it?