"On the contrary, that is just what these
artful women do who sacrifice virtue but cling all the more to
reputation. I read French novels, my boy."
"Find 'em instructive?"
"Very. They cut deeper into human nature than our writers dare. Her
turning away her lover _now_ is just the act of what the French call a
masterly woman--_maitresse femme._ She has got rid of him to close the
mouth of scandal; that is her game."
"Well," said Wheeler, "you certainly are very ingenious, and so
fortified in your opinions that with you facts are no longer stubborn
things; you can twist them all your way. If he had stayed and buzzed
about her, while her husband was incarcerated, you would have found her
guilty: he goes to Rome and leaves her, and therefore you find her
guilty. You would have made a fine hanging judge in the good old
sanguinary times."
"I use my eyes, my memory, and my reason. She is a monster of vice and
deceit. Anything is fair against such a woman."
"I am sorry to hear you say that," said Wheeler, becoming grave rather
suddenly. "A woman is a woman, and I tell you plainly I have gone
pretty well to the end of my tether with you."
"Abandon me, then," said Bassett, doggedly; "I can go alone."
Wheeler was touched by this, and said, "No, no; I am not the man to
desert a friend; but pray do nothing rash--do nothing without
consulting me.
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