Aubrey, forgive me for suggesting that the lady you are going to marry may not like our wives—mine at least; I beg your pardon, Frank. Aubrey. Aubrey. Quite so; then I must go the way my wife goes. Misquith. Misquith. Come, come, pray don't let us anticipate that either side will be called upon to make such a sacrifice. Aubrey. Aubrey. Yes, yes, let us anticipate it. And let us make up our minds to have no slow bleeding-to-death[8] of our friendship. We'll end a pleasant chapter here to-night, and after to-night start afresh. When my wife and I settle down at Willowmere it's possible that we shall all come together. But if this isn't to be, for Heaven's sake let us recognise that it is simply because it can't be, and not wear hypocritical faces and suffer and be wretched. Doctor, Frank—[holding out his hands, one to Misquith, the other to Jayne]—good luck to all of us! [8] Misquith Jayne Misquith. Misquith. But—but—do I understand we are to ask nothing? Not even the lady's name, Aubrey? Aubrey. Aubrey. The lady, my dear Frank, belongs to the next chapter, and in that her name is Mrs. Aubrey Tanqueray.
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