Now to take this case for instance: Sir Henry Curtis
is the best and kindest fellow and friend in the world, but he
has never been quite the same since that little scene in the
chapel. It is always Nyleptha this and Nyleptha that -- Nyleptha,
in short, from morning till night in one way or another, either
expressed or understood. And as for the old friends -- well,
of course they have taken the place that old friends ought to
take, and which ladies are as a rule very careful to see they
do take when a man marries, and that is, the second place. Yes,
he would be angry if anybody said so, but it is a fact for all
that. He is not quite the same, and Nyleptha is very sweet and
very charming, but I think that she likes him to understand that
she has married _him_, and not Quatermain, Good, and Co. But
there! what is the use of grumbling? It is all very right and
proper, as any married lady would have no difficulty in explaining,
and I am a selfish, jealous old man, though I hope I never show
it.
So Good and I went and ate in silence and then indulged in an
extra fine flagon of old Zu-Vendian to keep our spirits up, and
presently one of our attendants came and told a story that gave
us something to think about.
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