Pray do, William!" It was not until after repeated and repeated entreaties of this kind that Mr Sullivan, worn out by importunity, at last opened the door.
"Mary, I am very busy; I have opened the door to tell you so, and to request that you will not interrupt me.

Now oblige me by going to bed." But getting in was everything; and a young and pretty wife, in dishabille and in tears, imploring, entreating, conjuring, promising, coaxing, and fondling, is not quite so easy to be detached when once she has gained access.

In less than half an hour Mr Sullivan was obliged to confess that her conduct had been the occasion of a meeting being agreed upon for that morning, and that he was arranging his affairs in case of a melancholy termination.
"You now, Mary, must see the consequences of your conduct.

By your imprudence, your husband's life is risked, probably sacrificed; but this is no time to be at variance.

I forgive you, Mary--from my soul I do, as I hope for pardon myself." Mrs Sullivan burst into a paroxysm of tears; and it was some time before she could answer.