He grabbed the decanter and refilled his glass.
"Nice thing!" he growled.

"I offer 'er a fortune an' a bald-'eaded owd devil for a 'usband, 'oo ought to die in a year or two an' leave 'er everything; yet she ain't satisfied.

D--n 'er eyes, if I'd keep 'er as scullery-maid she'd 'ave different notions." With the taste of the wine, however, came the consoling reflection that Iris as a scullery-maid might not tickle the fancy of the dotard who had undertaken to provide fifty thousand pounds for the new partnership.

And she had promised--that was everything.

His lack of diplomacy was obvious even to himself, but he had won where a man of finer temperament might have failed.