"What did I say? I've forgotten long ago. You promised not to bother," returned Lady Joan, shortly, which was not encouraging.
But Jack was not easily snubbed.
"You said that marriage was tommy rot, don't you know," he pursued steadily.
She opened her eyes wide and stared at him.
"I didn't say so. But it is. Why?"
"Oh, well, you know, because I don't think it is exactly. At least I mean I don't see why it should be, don't you know."
"Then perhaps it isn't. It doesn't matter, does it? Oh, why don't we go on?"
"I say, how jolly smart you are to-day," he said crossly, and dropped the drawl.
"Why? Because I don't wish to discuss the marriage question? I am so sick of it. If that is all you want, go and read Björnson and all the others. Modern fiction is crammed with it, so is the modern drama. Your brother can lend you crowds of books about the marriage question—he won't want them for a year or two." She ended with a little hard laugh.
"You know I don't care a hang for the marriage question," he said sulkily.