BET. (_R. C., alarmed_) Yes, ma’am. It’s not my fault, ma’am, indeed
it isn’t--(_half crying_)--but you see, ma’am. (_CRUMMY nudges
her--then suddenly_) Ha, ha, ha!
CRUM. (_crosses L. C._) I must explain after all, I see--Anastasia
Mouser, not an hour since--and in terms as forcible as they were
pathetic--you brought a grave and heavy charge against your husband.
MRS. M. (_aside to CRUMMY, and rapidly_) Hush!
CRUM. Yes, Anastasia Mouser--and that charge was, that he was “_too
attentive by half._” It almost broke his heart. Didn’t it, Mouser?
MOUS. (_affecting pathos_) As near as a toucher!
CRUM. But suddenly a smile lighted up his benevolent
countenance--(_MOUSER smiles_)--and he said to me, “Crummy, I’ve an
idea.” Didn’t you, Mouser?
MOUS. Yes, I distinctly said, “Crummy, I’ve an idea.”
BET. I’ll swear to it. I heard him.
MRS. M. (_suddenly_) I see it all.
MOUS. (_aside_) That’s lucky. I’m damned if I do.
CRUM. And I determined to teach you this lesson--that the wife, who
could complain of too much attention from a husband, could only be cured
of her error by being led to suspect that that affection was bestowed on
another. (_gets round behind to R._)
MOUS. Exactly.
MRS. M. Then you have succeeded--for though, Marmaduke, you may love
me a thousand times better than ever--I’ll never complain again.
(_embracing MOUSER_)
MOUS. On these conditions, I forgive you.
MRS. M. My dear Cousin Crummy, what do I not owe you?