"Painting?"
Olivia shook her head, a little ruefully.
"Black-and-white. He's got some regular work to do at last. So things are looking up with us. We're beginning to save. He wants us to go and live in the country somewhere—not too far away—for the sake of the babies; and we shall do that next year if we can get a cottage."
"But would you like that? Wouldn't it be dull for you?" asked Edgar.
Olivia shook her head again, this time without any ruefulness at all.
"Nothing could be duller than London," she said. "Besides, if we had a nurse, Peter and I could always come up to town for an evening. One consequence of being rich would be a nurse; and that would mean lots of liberty, with the right girl. We shouldn't go anywhere quite in the wilds. And it isn't as though Joan would need a school just yet. She's got another three years before she need go. The great thing is for them to be able to play out-of-doors."
Edgar nodded, much impressed by this notion of life.
"Would you be happier?" he asked.
"I?" cried Olivia. "I couldn't be. I seem to have got everything I want."
Edgar stared meditatively at this remarkable woman.