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Updated: June 12, 2025
"The wife-stealer," exclaimed Alfred, and he clinched his fists in anticipation of the justice he would one day mete out to the despicable creature. Now Jimmy had been called many things in his time, he realised that he would doubtless be called many more things in the future, but never by the wildest stretch of imagination, had he ever conceived of himself in the role of "wife-stealer."
At the back of the court stood the curious who had come to see the show, held in bounds by a steel line of Spanish halberdiers. But the concourse was slight, for the folk of Piacenza still had weightier matters to concern them than the trial of a wife-stealer. I had ridden in with an escort of twenty lances.
I seemed to accept the general rule that a wife-stealer is a despicable creature, a thief, a vile, immoral wretch. But now, that I was not facing Max, that rule, somehow, did not apply to my relations with Dora.
Mistaking Jimmy's look of amazement for one of incredulity, Alfred endeavoured to convince him. "Oh, YOU'LL meet a wife-stealer sooner or later," he assured him. "You needn't look so horrified." Jimmy only stared at him and he continued excitedly: "She's had the effrontery the bad taste the idiocy to lunch in a public restaurant with the blackguard."
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