“Beastly job for you this, isn’t it?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I answered.
“Well, look here, you get it over, and then we’ll have a jolly evening.”
I hesitated.
“Has it occurred to you that your wife is frightfully unhappy?”
“She’ll get over it.”
I cannot describe the extraordinary callousness with which he made this reply. It disconcerted me, but I did my best not to show it. I adopted the tone used by my Uncle Henry, a clergyman, when he was asking one of his relatives for a subscription to the Additional Curates Society.
“You don’t mind my talking to you frankly?”
He shook his head, smiling.
“Has she deserved that you should treat her like this?”