She. And then, Guy, and then, that girl needs ten times the love and trust and honour—yes, honour—that was enough when she was only a mere wife if—if—the other life she chooses to lead is to be made even bearable. Do you understand?

He. Even bearable! It’ll be Paradise.

She. Ah! Can you give me all I’ve asked for—not now, nor a few months later, but when you begin to think of what you might have done if you had kept your own appointment and your caste here—when you begin to look upon me as a drag and a burden? I shall want it most then, Guy, for there will be no one in the wide world but you.

He. You’re a little over-tired to-night, Sweetheart, and you’re taking a stage view of the situation. After the necessary business in the Courts, the road is clear to—

She. ‘The holy state of matrimony!’ Ha! ha! ha!

He. Ssh! Don’t laugh in that horrible way!

She. I—I—c-c-c-can’t help it! Isn’t it too absurd! Ah! Ha! ha! ha! Guy, stop me quick or I shall—l-l- laugh till we get to the Church.

He. For goodness sake, stop! Don’t make an exhibition of yourself. What is the matter with you?

She. N-nothing. I’m better now.

He. That’s all right. One moment, dear. There’s a little wisp of hair got loose from behind your right ear and it’s straggling over your cheek. So!

She. Thank’oo. I’m ’fraid my hat’s on one side, too.

He. What do you wear these huge dagger bonnet-skewers for? They’re big enough to kill a man with.

She. Oh! don’t kill me, though. You’re sticking it into my head! Let me do it. You men are so clumsy.

He. Have you had many opportunities of comparing us—in this sort of work?

She. Guy, what is my name?

He. Eh! I don’t follow.

She. Here’s my card-case. Can you read?

He. Yes. Well?

She. Well, that answers your question. You know the other’s man’s name. Am I sufficiently humbled, or would you like to ask me if there is any one else?

He. I see now. My darling, I never meant that for an instant. I was only joking. There! Lucky there’s no one on the road. They’d be scandalised.

She. They’ll be more scandalised before the end.

He. Do-on’t! I don’t like you to talk in that way.

She. Unreasonable man! Who asked me to face the situation and accept it?—Tell me, do I look like Mrs. Penner? Do I look like a naughty woman! Swear I don’t! Give me your word of honour, my honourable