Lady Dunstable had not enjoyed them, and her tongue on
the subject was sharpness itself, restrained by none of the ordinary
compunctions. "Is this how she talks about all her guests--on Monday
morning?" thought Doris, with quickened pulse as the biting sentences
flew about.
... "Mr. Worthing? Why did he marry her? Oh, because he wanted a stuffed
goose to sit by the fire while he went out and amused himself.... Why
did she marry him? Ah, that's more difficult to answer. Is one obliged
to credit Mrs. Worthing with any reasons--on any subject? However, I
like Mr. Worthing--he's what men ought to be."
"And that is--?" Doris ventured to put in.
"Just--men," said Lady Dunstable, shortly.
Sir Luke laughed over his cigarette.
"That you may fool them? Well, Rachel, all the same, you would die of
Worthing's company in a month."
"I shouldn't die," said Lady Dunstable, quietly. "I should murder."
"Hullo, what's my wife talking about?" said a bluff and friendly voice.
Doris looked up to see a handsome man with grizzled hair approaching.
Pages:
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40