“Thank you. You are very good. Rumour says you will soon be requiring the same.”
“Yes?”
The word was distinctly interrogative. Fenwick found himself pondering what it carried with it. Miss Arbuthnot’s appearance was prosperous, her tone—provokingly indifferent—stung him into retort.
“Does yes signify yes?”
“I have never yet been sure. It so entirely depends on the speaker.”
“Then,” he returned boldly, “in your case I should say it meant the opposite.”
Miss Arbuthnot appeared to consider.
“You were never backward in assertion,” she said. “Tell me, has your Claudia really given up her career and her pocket-book?”
“Do you suppose I should allow my wife to make a fool of herself?”
“Oh, forgive me! I did not know you were married.”