Jerome Jerome: The Master of Mrs. Chilvers: An Improbable Comedy

Mrs. Mountcalm-Villiers. ( Affected .) How true!

Annys. But you are not asking me to give him. You are asking me to fight him. I can’t.

Lady Mogton. You mean you won’t.

Annys. You can put it that way if you like. I won’t.

Janet. I thought Mrs. Chilvers had pledged her word.

Elizabeth. Yes. But without her husband’s consent. So, of course, it doesn’t count.

Geoffrey. ( He turns on her .) Why not you – if there must be a fight? Or would it be against your principles?

Elizabeth. Not in the least.

Geoffrey. Ah!

Elizabeth. I would offer myself as a substitute. Only it might seem like coming between husband and wife.

Geoffrey. ( He turns away with a grunt of disgust .)

Phoebe. It’s awfully rough on you, Geoffrey. I can see it from your point of view. But one can’t help remembering the things that you yourself have said.

Geoffrey. I know; I know. I’ve been going up and down the country, excusing even your excesses on the ground that no movement can force its way to the front without treading on innumerable toes. For me, now, to cry halt merely because it happens to be my own toes that are in the way would be – ridiculous – absurd – would be monstrous. ( Nobody contradicts him

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