'For pity's sake, don't begin that silly nonsense, Dora.'

'It isn't silly nonsense. I say again--I mayn't be here when you come
home, and I mean it.'

'Oh, all right then. Suppose I were to say that I won't come home?'

'I should be quite indifferent.'

'O Dora!'

'I would. I am weary of our continual quarrels. I can bear this life no
longer.' (It was actually sunny as a summer sky.)

'Why, it was only last night you said how happy we were.'

'Yes, but I didn't mean it.'

'Didn't mean it! Don't talk like that, or I shall lose myself completely.'

'You will lose your train if you don't mind. Don't you think you had
better go?'

'Can you really talk to me like that?--me?--O Dora, it is not you that is
talking: it is some devil in you.'

Then suddenly irritated beyond all control by her silly little set face,
he would blurt out a sudden, 'Oh, very well, then!' and before she was
aware of it, the door would have banged. By the time William had reached