"I think——" He jumped up and took a pipe from his pocket. "Let's talk in peace till the old gentleman comes back. He has gone to the station for the Landed Proprietor."
"Who's that?"
"Nephew. Quite a swell. Sits on the bench, I believe; rides a horse in the Yeomanry; very good-looking, quite intelligent. The sort of man who is a father to his tenants. You'll see. I was going to say, I don't think the independent woman is a great success. Now, then!" But the expected indignation did not come.
"Oh?" she said politely.
"Aren't you even going to show fight?"
"I'm much too lazy. But go on."
"It's difficult to argue with a non-combatant, but I'll try to rouse you. You're a failure yourself, Theresa."
She raised her tired eyes, and again she encouraged him.
"Oh?"
"You do your work almost perfectly, and it doesn't satisfy you."