“Money” (we are quoting here from the remarks of Mrs. Slapman’s eminent counsel) “is very desirable in its way, but is it not the vilest dross, your Honor, when compared with the pure gold of connubial trust and sympathy?” Mr. Goldfinch nodded his head, as if to say that he rather thought it was.

The testimony of two servant girls established the fact that Mr. Slapman had several times been overheard to tell his wife that she would regret it; and that the time was fast coming when forbearance would cease to be a virtue; also that the worm, when trodden on repeatedly, might at last turn and sting, and many other enigmatical sayings of that character.  The very vagueness of these threats, implying unknown horrors, had inspired his wife with a mortal dread of him.  She did not know at what moment this jealous and revengeful man might strike her dead.  She had been living in the fear of her life for six years, and, during all this time, had never complained, or expressed that fear to one of her relatives or friends.

“Such is the noble, uncomplaining nature,” said the eminent counsel, in reference to this fact, “of the woman that Fate has thrown into the arms of a fiend.”

But the most striking proof of Mr. Slapman’s murderous designs upon his wife, was his conduct at the last dramatic soiree.  Twenty witnesses swore that it was his evident intention to spring on her and strangle her, and that he was only thwarted in this horrid purpose by the noble courage of Fayette Overtop, Esq.  Mr. Overtop briefly and modestly testified to this effect also; and, furthermore, narrated all the particulars of his acquaintance with Mrs. Slapman, holding before her a shield, from which the arrows of calumny, aimed by her husband, fell harmless.

Mr. Slapman had not shown himself in the referee’s office since the investigation began.  He had become convinced that he had lost the case into which his mad jealousy and his lawyer’s advice had plunged him.  Mrs. Slapman, according to the testimony of the two servants and several others, was immured in her house, and brooding over this saddest episode in her unhappy history.

“Nothing but that instinct of self-preservation,” said the eminent counsel, “which bids the dove to fly from the hawk, and the rabbit to evade the pursuing hounds, could have induced that delicate, shrinking lady to lay bare the horrors of her prison house to the world, and to ask, in the name of common humanity, a release from the tyrant, and a liberal alimony.”

The eminent counsel repeated this flight of fancy in the ear of Mrs. Slapman, at the opera that evening, whither she was accompanied by a few of the Jigbees, and she smiled, and said that it was really beautiful.