_ Haven't an idea. Isn't there a calendar on your
writing-table?--that ought to tell you, if you want to know.
_Mrs. R._ Thank you, _I_ don't require a calendar. To-day is the
twenty-third--the day you and I were married. [_Sighs._
_Jack._ 'Pon my word I believe you're right. The twenty-third--so it
is! [_He becomes silent._
_Mrs. R._ (_to herself, as the "Wedding March" continues jubilantly_).
He _is_ ashamed of himself. I _knew_ he would be--only he doesn't
quite know how to tell me so; he will presently.... I wish I could
see his face.... If he is only sorry enough, I _think_ I shall
forgive him. JACK! (_Softly._) JACK dear! (_A prolonged snore from the
arm-chair. She goes to him and touches his arm._) You had better go
down-stairs and have your cigar, hadn't you? It may keep you awake!
(_Bitterly._)
_Jack_ (_opening his eyes_). Eh?--oh! Well, if you're sure you don't
mind being alone, I rather think I will.
_Mrs. R._ I should infinitely _prefer_ being alone--I am so used to
it.
[_Exit JACK, as the "Wedding March" comes to a triumphant conclusion._
THIRD ANNIVERSARY--1895.
_SAME SCENE. TIME, 11:30 P.M. MRS. MANDOLINE DISCOVERED WITH HER
DAUGHTER._
_Mrs. M._ Nearly twelve, and JACK not in yet--on this of all days,
too! VIOLA, you will be weak, _culpably_ weak, if you don't speak to
him, very seriously, when he _does_ come in.
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