'You turn your wife and child out of doors,' said Nicholas; 'and, in a
fit of rage and jealousy, stab your eldest son in the library.'

'Do I though!' exclaimed Mr Lenville. 'That's very good business.'

'After which,' said Nicholas, 'you are troubled with remorse till the
last act, and then you make up your mind to destroy yourself. But, just
as you are raising the pistol to your head, a clock strikes--ten.'

'I see,' cried Mr Lenville. 'Very good.'

'You pause,' said Nicholas; 'you recollect to have heard a clock
strike ten in your infancy. The pistol falls from your hand--you are
overcome--you burst into tears, and become a virtuous and exemplary
character for ever afterwards.'

'Capital!' said Mr Lenville: 'that's a sure card, a sure card. Get the
curtain down with a touch of nature like that, and it'll be a triumphant
success.'

'Is there anything good for me?' inquired Mr Folair, anxiously.

'Let me see,' said Nicholas. 'You play the faithful and attached
servant; you are turned out of doors with the wife and child.'

'Always coupled with that infernal phenomenon,' sighed Mr Folair;
'and we go into poor lodgings, where I won't take any wages, and talk
sentiment, I suppose?'

'Why--yes,' replied Nicholas: 'that is the course of the piece.'