He. Frowsy Scotchwoman! What is the use of bringing her into the
discussion? You were saying?

She. Nothing. Have you ever seen a man hanged?

He. Yes. Once.

She. What was it for?

He. Murder, of course.

She. Murder. Is that so great a sin after all? I wonder how he felt
before the drop fell.

He. I don't think he felt much. What a gruesome little woman it is
this evening! You're shivering. Put on your cape, dear.

She. I think I will. Oh! Look at the mist coming over Sanjaoli; and
I thought we should have sunshine on the Ladies' Mile! Let's turn
back.

He. What's the good? There's a cloud on Elysium Hill, and that
means it's foggy all down the Mall. We'll go on. It'll blow away
before we get to the Convent, perhaps. 'Jove! It is chilly.

She. You feel it, fresh from below. Put on your ulster. What do you
think of my cape?

He. Never ask a man his opinion of a woman's dress when he is