“Oceans,” said Rosa.
“I will go and hunt houses again.”
“There's a good husband,” said Mrs. Cole, as soon as the door closed on him, “and such a fine man! Why, he must be six feet. Mine is rather short. But he is very good; refuses me nothing. My will is law.”
“That is all right—you are so sensible; but I want governing a little, and I like it—actually. Did the dressmaker find it, dear?”
“Oh, no! I had it by me. I bought it at Brussels on our wedding tour: it is dearer there than in London.”
She said this as if “dearer” and “better” were synonymous.
“But about your house, Rosie dear?”
“Yes, darling, I'll tell you all about it. I never saw a moire this shade before. I don't care for them in general; but this is so distingue.”
Florence rewarded her with a kiss.
“The house,” said Rosa. “Oh, he has seen one in Portman Street, and one in Gloucester Place.”