"Um." Margaret glinted over her mouthful of cake. "I always thought the invention of wives was a clever stunt."
"They can save money, anyway. I tried doing some of the things evenings, ironing and mending, but I can't."
"I should hope not!"
"Well, then, I have to pay for them. Charles can't. It wouldn't be fair."
"You look as if you were doing housework all night, anyway." Margaret's eyes gleamed with hostility. "Why can't the King take his share? You're as thin as a bean pole."
"Wait till you get your own husband, you! Then you can talk."
"Husband!" Margaret hooted. "Me? I'm fixed for life right now."
"They have their good points." Catherine rose, drawing on her gloves. Margaret paid the bill and tipped with the nonchalance of an unattached male.
"That's all right." Margaret thrust her hands deep into her pockets and followed her sister. She turned her nose up to sniff at the sharp wind, eddying fine snow flakes down the side street. "I know lots of women who prefer to set up an establishment with another woman. Then you go fifty-fifty on everything. Work and feeling and all the rest, and no King waiting around for his humble servant."