She looked at him seriously and then broke into laughter.
"Would it make you feel more comfortable if I laid you over the shoulders with a mahl stick?"
"I think it would," he grinned.
"Sure and that is one of the few pleasant prerogatives of matrimony—in Ireland."
"And elsewhere——" added Horton.
"But I do want to know if anything's troubling you. Are you still worried——" she took a brioche and smiled at it amiably, "because we're not appropriately chaperoned?"
"No—not so much. I see you're quite able to look out for yourself."
"And you derive some comfort from the fact?" she asked.
He looked at her, their eyes met and they both burst into laughter.
"Moira—you witch! But you'd better not tempt me too far."