"It's quite like a new honeymoon," she said, sarcastically. The drug was doing its renovating work, and her original devil was returning to a swept and garnished house, with seven other spirits more wicked than himself.
Jim took the remark seriously, and coloured with pleasure. "I believe we'd get on rippin'," said he, enthusiastically. "If we only had the money I believe we'd be as happy as birds."
"They can't be very happy in this cold weather," replied Leah, seeing plainly that Jim's amiability was owing to a selfish fear of reproval for his iniquities. "Here's the tea. I don't want any just now, as the sal volatile is doing me good. You can eat."
"Oh, can't I, just," said Jim, when the footman left and he was filling himself a cup. "Th' skatin's given me an appetite. 'Sides, I want to get into form; as I've somethin' serious to say about this insurance business."
Leah looked up suddenly. "I thought you had given that the go-by."
"No--o--o," drawled her husband, not meeting her eyes. "Course, th' pater's a good sort an' all that. But his arrangement will give us a howlin' bad time for the next few years."
"So I told you."
"Well, then," Jim fiddled nervously with a piece of toast, "why not get the twenty thousand?"
"It could be managed, of course, with some little difficulty."
"Through that Russian Johnny?"