Drummle. [Protestingly.] Ah! now—— Aubrey. Aubrey. I am neither. I have a temperate, honourable affection for Mrs. Jarman. She has never met a man who has treated her well—I intend to treat her well. That's all. And in a few years, Cayley, if you've not quite forsaken me, I'll prove to you that it's possible to rear a life of happiness, of good repute, on a—miserable foundation.[39] [39] Drummle. Drummle. [Offering his hand.] Do prove it! Aubrey. Aubrey. [Taking his hand.] We have spoken too freely of—of Mrs. Jarman. I was excited—angry. Please forget it! Drummle. Drummle. My dear Aubrey, when we next meet I shall remember nothing but my respect for the lady who bears your name. Morse enters, closing the door behind him carefully. Morse Aubrey. Aubrey. What is it?
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