“Well, you brought me here, woman: and if it is, as your mistress says,—attorneys, like physicians, are privileged persons.”
“Oh! he won't discriminate, Wilmot. Don't you know, you cruel man, that we can't blind others with what we blind ourselves? I am as pure as an angel; but appearance is every thing; and Mr. Blennerhagen is more jealous than a Turk.”
“That I am sure he is, madam; for he doats on you.”
“And you, Mr. Burdock, will not be complaisant enough to save our connubial bliss from being wrecked for ever.—If you don't comply, I must scream out, and say you intruded yourself.”
“Will you hear me speak?” cried the enraged attorney.
“Hark, how he bawls! And he knows well enough the wife of Cæsar must not even be suspected,” said Mrs. Blennerhagen; “let the wretch ruin me;—do, Wilmot.”
“Indeed I won't, madam, if I can help it. Come, sir, if you are a gentleman, prove yourself to be so.”
“Bedlamites! will you hear me?—is not my character—”
“Oh! he is a bachelor attorney, and lives in chambers, Wilmot: and you know the character of that class of men is quite obnoxious in cases of reputation: but let him have his way; I must be his martyr, I see.”
“Come, come, sir,—right or wrong, be civil to a lady.”