"I'm not," said Flora, firmly. "For all that, I don't know if I like you when you're cynical."
"It's a relapse, or perhaps a reaction. Living up to your standard is a bit of a strain now and then."
"Would you sooner I lowered the standard?"
"Not at all," said Wyndham, with a twinkle. "Keep it as high as you can for yourself, so long as you are willing to make some allowances for me."
"That's a man's point of view," Flora remarked. "However, on the whole, you're very good. I really don't get many jars."
She studied him and mused. Harry was all, or very nearly all, she had thought, and she was happy. Sometimes, perhaps, she wished he would give her a little more of his confidence, about the office for example. The control of the extending business was not easy; she saw he had cares he did not talk about. He was a handsome man and she approved the fastidious neatness of his white yachting clothes, but he looked fine-drawn. Flora rather liked this half-ascetic look; Harry had no gross passions to draw him away from her, although she sometimes feared she had a rival in his ambition. He was ambitious and did not tell her much about his plans.
She looked about. Near the point, a little varnished boat shone in the strong light. Bob had taken Mabel for a row in the dinghy.
"I'm sorry for them," she remarked.
"Sorry for whom?" said Wyndham, and turned his head. "Oh, yes; it's hard for Bob! Mabel, no doubt, gets some satisfaction from feeling she's doing what she ought. I, myself, don't know if she ought or not, but this doesn't matter so long as Bob's persuaded. Well, I suppose she's worth waiting for and Bob is patient."
"You are not patient," Flora rejoined. "You refused to wait."