and would continue so to happen; and as he put on his overcoat and paid
his bill he had asked himself, "Why in the name of decency do they go on
living together?" And now he thought, as he listened to the two players
wrangling on the stage: "What 's the good of all this talk? There's
something here past words."

The curtain came down upon the act, and he looked at the lady next him.
She was shrugging her shoulders at her husband, whose face was healthy
and offended.

"I do dislike these unhealthy women," he was saying, but catching
Shelton's eye he turned square in his seat and sniffed ironically.

The face of Shelton's friend beyond, composed, satirical as ever, was
clothed with a mask of scornful curiosity, as if he had been listening to
something that had displeased him not a little. The goggle-eyed man was
yawning. Shelton turned to Halidome:

"Can you stand this sort of thing?" said he.

"No; I call that scene a bit too hot," replied his friend.

Shelton wriggled; he had meant to say it was not hot enough.

"I'll bet you anything," he said, "I know what's going to happen now.
You'll have that old ass--what's his name?--lunching off cutlets and
champagne to fortify himself--for a lecture to the wife. He'll show her
how unhealthy her feelings are--I know him--and he'll take her hand and
say, 'Dear lady, is there anything in this poor world but the good
opinion of Society?' and he'll pretend to laugh at himself for saying it;
but you'll see perfectly well that the old woman means it. And then
he'll put her into a set of circumstances that are n't her own but his
version of them, and show her the only way of salvation is to kiss her
husband"; and Shelton grinned. "Anyway, I'll bet you anything he takes
her hand and says, 'Dear lady.'"

Halidome turned on him the disapproval of his eyes, and again he said,

"I think Pirbright 's ripping!"

But as Shelton had predicted, so it turned out, amidst great applause.

CHAPTER V

THE GOOD CITIZEN

Leaving the theatre, they paused a moment in the hall to don their coats;
a stream of people with spotless bosoms eddied round the doors, as if in
momentary dread of leaving this hothouse of false morals and emotions for
the wet, gusty streets, where human plants thrive and die, human weeds
flourish and fade under the fresh, impartial skies. The lights revealed
innumerable solemn faces, gleamed innumerably on jewels, on the silk of
hats, then passed to white