Mrs. T. Josiah, you’ll drive me to the grave. But if you do not respect the feelings of the wife of your bosom think of your child.
Mr. T. Our child is all right. She is not going to fight.
Mrs. T. But think of her future?
Mr. T. Which future, my dear? There appears to be two of him.
Mrs. T. Josiah, you stand here talking while every moment is a question of life or death.
Mr. T. (Coolly.) I’m waiting for developments, dear.
Mrs. T. Developments, indeed! Do you think they will come to you? They may be in the dells.
Mr. T. No, this is the right spot. All our high-class affairs occur here. Capt. Throckmugger died at the foot of that tree just over there.
Mrs. T. Mercy! Josiah, how can you speak of blood! You want to kill me?