"But, my deah! In England, you kneow, it wouldn't mattah; it would be a case of hopeless devotion. But as I understand things heah, it may become awkward. Don't ye think so, love?"
"It depends upon the young man. Edith could do worse than marry a good, clean, wholesome fellow like that."
"Good gracious! You deon't allow your mind to go that fah?"
"Why, certainly! I'd much rather she'd marry a strong young workingman than some burnt-out third-generation wreck of her own set in the city."
"But the fellow has no means."
"He has muscle and brains, and besides, she has something of her own."
Saulisbury filled his pipe slowly.
"Luckily, it's all theory on our part; the contingency isn't heah—isn't likely to arrive, in fact."
"Don't be too sure. If I can read a girl's heart in the lines of her face, she's got where principalities and powers are of small account."
"Really?"