"That all?"
"Not a bit of it. There was a regular lecture on the proper behaviour of working men's wives; sort of fetch and carry dogs with the tails always between their legs and never a wag except when the master condescends to give them a nod or so."
"Going to do it all?"
She was fingering her hair and started, glancing sharply at me in the glass. "Sisters don't, by any means. But I know that tone of yours. You mean something. What is it?"
"Mrs. Fischer told me she had been giving you some hints."
She paused and then turned and faced me, putting her hands behind her back with her head thrown well back—a pose I knew well. "I think I know what you mean and I'm not going to do it, Jack."
"Do what?"
"Innocent! But it's no use, Jack, I won't."
"Very well."
"You don't mean that a bit. I know. You mean just the opposite. It's about my getting over the frontier alone. Isn't that it?"