She laughed and shook her head. "Well, there's one thing, you won't be the boss any longer."
"We'll see about that, young 'un."
"Don't, Jack. Don't ever dare to refer to this again or I'll—I'll—I don't know what I'll do!" she cried with a stamp of the foot. Then she caught sight of Han's cap. "It's that horrid thing that's the cause of it all;" and she picked it up and flung it from her.
That was the overt act of renunciation of the part; and as she turned to me I put my arm round her and kissed her.
"I thought there was to be no more 'anything else,'" she laughed.
"Mustn't a man kiss his own wife?" I cried.
"That hopes to be, Jack," she whispered.
And that was Hans' funeral ceremony.