treating from the close and unpleasant proximity of the pistol, sank into his armchair.
"Put it down, girl! Put that pistol down for heaven's sake, for how can I think whilst I am being made a target of?"
Imogene lowered the weapon.
"I really don't know what to say," went on the wretched old man. "I am entirely fogged out of all vision. Muddled, muddled—entirely muddled. I wish you would let my wife come in. Oh, how I do wish you would! Whatever her faults may be, she is really most excellent at thinking out difficulties of this kind. In fact, I must confess that she does all my thinking work for me. Women sometimes, you know, have most excellent brains—quick brains. They have, you know. Really they have. Quick tongues, too. My wife has. Oh, yes, really, you know, she's got both, and the tongue part of her is developed to a most astonishing degree. But give her her due. Give her her due. So's her brain. So's her brain. A most clever brain—most clever. Very quick; exceptionally alert. As clever as a man, really she is. In fact, she's absolutely cleverer than most. She's cleverer than me. Oh, yes, she is. I confess it. I'm not conceited. Why, she does all my work for me—so there you are. It proves it, don't it? Writes all my speeches for me. Really, you know, I am utterly useless without her. She guides me—absolutely guides me, she does. Why,
