“I think I ought to know.”
“Don’t you have everything you want?” he asked, inconsequently.
“Yes.”
“Have I stinted you in anything?”
“No, Douglas, never. You’ve been perfect. No woman ever had a more generous husband.”
Briggs thrust his hands into his pockets and burlesqued an attitude of extreme self-satisfaction. “There! Then there’s nothing more to be said, since I’m such a paragon.”
“But I want to know, really,” Helen insisted. For the first time she had known him she suspected that he was not quite sincere. And yet she could not believe that he was capable of acting with her—with anyone.
Briggs turned quickly. “I told you I didn’t know myself.”
“But I’m serious about this,” Helen went on. “Now, your salary is five thousand, isn’t it?”
“M’m—h’m!”