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Start: Mrs. Oakley: Don’t tell me - I know it is so - It’s monstrous and I will not bear it. Mr. Oakley: But my dear! Mrs. Oakley: Say what you will, Mr. Oakley, you shall never persuade me but this is some filthy intrigue of yours. Mr. Oakly: I can assure you my love - Mrs. Oakley: Your love! Don’t I know your - Tell me, I say this instant, every circumstance relating to this letter. Mr. Oakley: How can I tell you, when you will not so much as let me see it. Mrs. Oakley: Look you, Mr. Oakley, this usage is not to be borne. You take a pleasure in abusing my tenderness and soft disposition. To be perpetually running over the whole town, nay, the whole kingdom too, in pursuit of your amours! Did not I discover that you was great with mademoiselle, my own woman? Did not you contract a