Yes, that's where Robert, and you, with your Robert, are leading me,
confound you both. It will be as bad as that; confound you both.

"Don't speak like that, even in jest," you'll say brazenly.

"But damme, Mary--"

"And I certainly will not have my name coupled with that sort of
language, please."

I shall appeal to Robert to bear evidence that I am the injured party,
and not you. Robert of course will stand by you, and you, worthless
woman that you are, will sink your identity and sacrifice your soul
and stand by TIGHT TROUSERS AND HIGH COLLARS.

And I shall get red in the face (and at the back of the neck).

And in the end I shall have to make good by taking you all out to the
most expensive dinner, theatre and supper possible--very nice for
you two, no doubt, but what about me in those infernal trousers and
collars?

It will right itself in the end, for I cannot believe your reason
will permanently forsake you, even for that precious nut of a Robert.
Eventually we shall prefer, unanimously you and I, to slink about the
back streets, clothed in our own ideas, rather than promenade the
fashionable parts clothed in Robert's.

Do you say to yourself that that supreme test, the sacrifice of