I always told you I'd do it some day." Tyson pushed his chair back from the table and scowled meditatively.

Mrs.
Nevill Tyson was smiling softly to herself as she played with the water in her finger-glass.

Presently she rose and shook the drops from her fingertips, like one washing her hands of a light matter.

Stanistreet got up and opened the door for her, standing very straight and militant and grim; and as she passed through she looked back at him and laughed again.
"I can see," said Tyson, as Stanistreet took his seat again, "you've been letting that wife of mine make more or less of a fool of herself.

If you had no consideration for her neck or your own, you might have thought of my son and heir." "Oh," said Stanistreet, a little vaguely, for he was startled, "I kept a good lookout." "Not much use in that," said Tyson.
Stanistreet battled with his doubt.