A sense of shame restrained him from saying
what he wanted to, although he had long ago slipped into the most
intimate confessions about his household. She had to encourage him. Dear
me, she was a woman; she could understand everything. When in a dull
voice he exclaimed:
"You're ill. What's the good of tiring you? It was stupid of me to have
come. I'm going--"
"No," she answered briskly enough. "Stay! Perhaps I shall be able to
give you some good advice. Only don't make me talk too much; the medical
man's forbidden it."
He had ended by rising, and he was now walking up and down the room.
Then she questioned him:
"Now what are you going to do?
"I'm going to box the man's ears--by heavens, yes!"
She pursed up her lips disapprovingly.
"That's not very wise. And about your wife?"
"I shall go to law; I've proofs."
"Not at all wise, my dear boy. It's stupid even. You know I shall never
let you do that!"
And in her feeble voice she showed him decisively how useless and
scandalous a duel and a trial would be. He would be a nine days'
newspaper sensation; his whole existence would be at stake, his peace
of mind, his high situation at court, the honor of his name, and all for
what? That he might have the laughers against him.
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