“For your good as he sees it.”
“For my good as a kind old nurse might see it. He’s limited, of course; but then kind old nurses generally are.”
To be true to her vow of keeping the peace she forced back her irritations, and smiled. “You’re an awful goose, Rash; but then you’re a lovable goose, aren’t you?” She beckoned, imperiously. “Come here.”
When he was on his knees beside her chair she pressed back his face framed by her two hands. “Now tell me. Which do you love most—Steptoe or me?”
He cast about him for two of her special preferences. “And you tell me; which do you love most, a saddle-horse or an opera?”
“If I told you, which should I be?—the opera or the saddle-horse?”
“If I told you, which would you give up?”
So they talked foolishly, as lovers do in the chaffing stage, she trying to charm him into promising to get 221 rid of Steptoe, he charmed by her willingness to charm him. Neither remembered that technically he was a married man; but then neither had ever taken his marriage to Letty as a serious breach in their relations.
While he was thus on his knees the kindly old nurse was giving to Letty a kindly old nurse’s advice.