doubt you would; none at all. Some men would do anything. What?
"You've a bit of a headache?
"I hope you have—and a good bit, too. You've been to the right place for it. No—I won't hold my tongue. It's all very well for you men to go to taverns—and talk—and toast—and hurrah—and—I wonder you're not all ashamed of yourselves to drink the Queen's health with all the honours, I believe, you call it—yes, pretty honours you pay to the sex—I say, I wonder you're not ashamed to drink that blessed creature's health, when you've only to think how you use your own wives at home. But the hypocrites that the men are—oh!
"Where's your watch?
"Haven't I told you? It's under your pillow—there, you needn't be feeling for it. I tell you it's under your pillow.
"It's all right?
"Yes; a great deal you know of what's right just now! Ha! was there ever any poor soul used as I am!
"I'm a dear creature?
"Pah! Mr. Caudle! I've only to say, I'm tired of your conduct—quite tired, and don't care how soon there's an end of it.
"Why did I take your cheque-book?
"I've told you—to save you from ruin, Mr. Caudle.
"You're not going to be ruined?
"Ha! you don't know anything when you're out! I know what they do at those public dinners—charities, they call 'em; pretty charities! True Charity, I believe, always dines at home. I know what they do: the whole system's a trick. No: I'm not a stony-hearted creature: and you ought to be ashamed to say so of your wife and
