"YOU WELL KNOW YOU'RE NOT?

"That's nothing to do with it--I only ask, What must people think,
when I'm never seen with you? Other women go out with their
husbands: but, as I've often said, I'm not like any other woman.
What are you sneering at, Mr. Caudle?

"HOW DO I KNOW YOU'RE SNEERING?

"Don't tell me: I know well enough, by the movement of the pillow.

"No; you never take me out--and you know it. No; and it's not my own
fault. How can you lie there and say that? Oh, all a poor excuse!
That's what you always say. You're tired of asking me, indeed,
because I always start some objection? Of course I can't go out a
figure. And when you ask me to go, you know very well that my bonnet
isn't as it should be--or that my gown hasn't come home--or that I
can't leave the children--or that something keeps me indoors. You
know all this well enough before you ask me. And that's your art.
And when I DO go out with you, I'm sure to suffer for it. Yes, you
needn't repeat my words. SUFFER FOR IT. But you suppose I have no
feelings: oh no, nobody has feelings but yourself. Yes; I'd forgot:
Miss Prettyman, perhaps--yes, she may have feelings, of course.

"And as I've said, I dare say a pretty dupe people think me. To be
sure; a poor forlorn creature I must look in everybody's eyes. But I
knew you couldn't be at Mr. Prettyman's house night after night till
eleven o'clock--and a great deal you thought of me sitting up for
you--I knew you couldn't be there without some cause. And now I've