state of affairs is that all wives of over a year's standing should
pack cotton wool in their ears. Eh? That's brains, isn't it? Kindly
applaud."

"'M ..." said Julia, tightening her lips.

"Osborn entered marriage with the most exalted expectations," Rokeby
went on.

"So did Marie."

"I assure you I never knew a chap more in love."

"Nor I a girl."

"Oh, chuck it!" begged Rokeby, laughing. "Do chuck it, will you? Then
you'll be a dear too. Look here, wouldn't you like to go on somewhere
after this? I can telephone from here for seats."

But she would not. So they lingered on for awhile, talking and smoking
over their coffee; and at last, when Julia looked across the room at
the clock over the big mirrors, she was astonished and half vexed to
find how much time had slipped by. Then she insisted on going, but
Rokeby insisted, too, upon his escort all the way home, and she did
not gainsay him. As he lifted her furs over her straight shoulders,
waving away the waiter who hastened forward for the service, he
murmured:

"Were you bored?"