Hang it all, Mrs. Rodney, wot's the odds, so long as all parties are
contented? We can stand it, by Jove, if they can, don't you know. We
can't regulate the love affairs of the universe. Besides, I'm not going
to stand by and see a friend dragged into a thing of this sort--"

"A friend, Carney," exclaimed his wife.

"Well, it's possible, my dear, that he may be a friend. I know so many
chaps in London who might be doing this sort of thing, don't you know.
Who knows but the chap who's writing her these letters may be one of my
best friends? It doesn't pay to take a chance on it. I won't hear to it.
If Medcroft knows and his wife knows and Miss Fowler knows, why the
deuce should we bother our heads about it? Last night I heard the
Medcroft infant bawling its lungs out--teething, I daresay--but did I go
in and take a hand in straightening out the poor little beggar? Not I.
By the same token, why should I or anybody else presume to step in and
try to straighten out the troubles of its parents? It's useless
interference, either way you take it."

"I think it's all very entertaining and diverting," said Mrs.
Odell-Carney carelessly. She yawned.

"Do you really think so?" asked the doubting Mrs. Rodney. "I was so
afraid you'd mind. Your position in society, my dear Mrs.--"

"My position in society, Mrs. Rodney, can weather the tempest you
predict," said Mrs. Odell-Carney with a smile that went to Mrs. Rodney's
marrow.

"Oh, if--if you really don't mind--" she mumbled apologetically.