“So I ought,” he admitted; “but it takes a man such a hell of a time to know just what he ought to do where a woman’s concerned.”
“Not where his wife’s concerned, I should think.”
“Hardest of all, I reckon.”
“Yes, because a wife’s truthful most times,” replied Medora. “It’s no good her pretending—there’s nothing to gain by it. Other women often pretend that a man’s pleasing them, when he’s not—just for politeness to the stupid things; but a man’s wife’s a fool to waste time like that. The sooner she trains her husband up to the truth of her, the better for him and the better for her.”
They wrangled a little, then Ned laughed again.
“Now Jordan will let on you and me are quarrelling,” he said.
Thus challenged, the rower answered, but he was quite serious in his reply.
“Last thing I should be likely to do—even if it was true. A man and his wife can argue a point without any feeling, of course.”
“So they can,” declared Medora. “And a proud woman don’t let even a friend see her troubles. Not that I’ve got any troubles, I’m sure.”
“And never will have, I hope,” answered Kellock gravely.