"But you're not going to bathe, are you?"
"Oh, yes, I am! There are my things. Have you got yours?"
"Yes, they're in the locker."
"I shall simply adore to swim. If you'd been any sort of a husband you'd have seen to it before." She shot this out without thinking. Her spirits were too high to bother about anything that he might say. She had forgotten for the time being that he was a man.
"Being your sort of husband," he blurted out, "I keep all suggestions to myself."
She gave one quick look at him. Yes, she held the cards now, all of them. There would be no more monotony from day to day. This man was coming through, like a negative in course of development. She would be able to play with him as a cat plays with a mouse, make him pay over and over again for having hurt her so deeply, and as soon as it suited her bring him to the point of being willing and anxious to let her go, getting nothing from her.
She sat back and smiled. How infinitely satisfactory it was to resume her place in the world and in her own esteem! It wasn't her fault if everybody had spoiled her. It was theirs. The point was, was she worth spoiling? And for Franklin to say yes,—Franklin who had fought so hard to wear a mask and had played the tyrant with such success,—that was good hearing!
"What time do you propose having lunch?" she asked, after a long and happy silence.
"Any time you like."
"Do you mean that?"