"Let's hear the deuced lot," said the lady, with business-like cheerfulness.
"Well, to begin with," he brought out painfully, "there 's the fact that she 's rich."
"Yes, she's rich," conceded Miss Sandus. "Does that diminish her attractions?"
"You know what I mean," groaned Anthony, with no heart for trifling.
"For the matter of that, are n't you rich yourself?" Miss Sandus retorted.
"Rich!" he cried. "I totter on the brink of destitution."
"Oh?" she murmured. "I 'd imagined you were by way of being rather an extensive land owner."
"So I am," said he. "And my rather extensive lands, what with shrinkages and mortgages, with wages, pensions, subscriptions, and general expenses,—I doubt if they yield a net income of fifteen hundred a year. And I 've not a stiver else in the world."
"Poor, poor young man," she laughingly commiserated him. "And yet I hardly think you 're poor enough to let the fact of her wealth weigh with you. If a man has enough for himself, it does n't matter how much more his wife may have, since he 'll not depend upon her for his support. I should n't lie awake o' nights, bothering about the money question."
Anthony got up, and stood at the end of the fireplace, with his elbow on the mantel.