“Let them think, the nasty-minded wretches! It is because men like you are afraid of the nasty-minded that you allow their opinions to rule you.”
“I am afraid you are a female Shelley,” he replied; “and as such, you really drive me to become your partner in order to protect you.”
“If you take me as a partner in order to protect me . . . I . . . I shan’t be your partner, that’s all. You’ll drive me into buying Pari-Sulay yet.”
“All the more reason—” he attempted.
“Do you know what I’ll do?” she demanded. “I’ll find some man in the Solomons who won’t want to protect me.”
Sheldon could not conceal the shock her words gave him.
“You don’t mean that, you know,” he pleaded.
“I do; I really do. I am sick and tired of this protection dodge. Don’t forget for a moment that I am perfectly able to take care of myself. Besides, I have eight of the best protectors in the world—my sailors.”
“You should have lived a thousand years ago,” he laughed, “or a thousand years hence. You are very primitive, and equally super-modern. The twentieth century is no place for you.”
“But the Solomon Islands are. You were living like a savage when I came along and found you—eating nothing but tinned meat and scones that would have ruined the digestion of a camel. Anyway, I’ve remedied that; and since we are to be partners, it will stay remedied. You won’t die of malnutrition, be sure of that.”