“Well, if you must know,” and he snapped it out at her with a vicious grin; “I’ve made an infernal ass of myself over at Marley.”
His wife’s most saving virtue was that she rarely lost control either of her tongue or of her temper. She could on occasion display the discretion of an angel, and smile down a snub with a beatific simplicity that made her seem like a child out of a convent. She busied herself with making her husband’s tea, and chatted on general topics for fully three minutes before referring to the affair at Marley.
“You generally exaggerate your sins, Parker,” she said, cheerfully.
“Do I? Damn that Pennington woman and her humbugging hysterics.”
Mrs. Betty studied him keenly.
“Is Miss Julia really and truly ill for once?”
“I have just wired for Campbell of ‘Nathaniel’s’.”
“Indeed!”
“The idiot’s eyesight is in danger. Old Pennington got worried about her, and insisted on a consultation.”
Betty cut her husband some cake.