"One never knows when one's well off, does one? It's madness to think of what's gone forever."
For several minutes there was silence, during which Nora recovered her self-control. Having wiped away her tears, she turned hack to him, smiling bravely. "I beg your pardon. You'll think me more foolish than I really am. I'm not the crying sort, I assure you. But I don't know, it all——"
"That's all right, I know you're not," he said roughly. "I wish we'd got a good drop of liquor here," he went on with the evident intention of changing the current of her thoughts, "so as we could drink one another's health. But as we ain't, you'd better give me a kiss instead."
"I'm not at all fond of kissing," said Nora coolly.
Frank grinned at her, his pipe stuck between his white teeth.
"It ain't, generally speaking, an acquired taste. I guess you must be peculiar."
"It looks like it," she said lightly.
"Come, my girl," he said, getting slowly up from his stool, "you didn't even kiss me after we was married."
"Isn't a hint enough for you?"—her tone was perfectly friendly. "Why do you insist on my saying everything in so many words? Why make me dot my i's and cross my t's, so to speak?"
"It seems to me it wants a few words to make it plain when a woman refuses to give her husband a kiss."