"You mean—that affair—last summer—the summer before last?"
If she had meant it she had not meant him to refer to it. "That affair?" How could Johnnie Benton know about it?
"Well—yes," she acknowledged, "and other things. She isn't very domestic."
"I beg to differ with you!" Johnnie spoke with some heat. "She is domestic. She loves houses. You know she loves houses and—things."
"Well, anyway, Johnnie, I think—she'd be just as apt to marry you—if you went to work; maybe more so. Not that I think——"
Johnnie lifted his head, as if to ward off her reproof. "I'm sick of this," he burst out. "People think I ought to settle down. Well, I would settle down—if Martha'd agree. I'd settle down here, or any place. It doesn't much matter what business I go into; I'll likely be a failure in any of 'em. I'll have enough to live on for us both. But if Martha won't, I'm going to pull out of this for a year or so; let them settle the estate to suit themselves. I can't be bothered with it. I'm going to sea for a year—till I get things into my own hands."
"Oh, Johnnie, what do you want to go to sea for? There's something better than that, surely?"
"Well, I'll have to earn my living—for a while, if things don't get settled up. The bank's howling about advancing me any more money. As if there wasn't plenty coming to me, some place! They won't let me sell the house, even, till the estate's settled.".
"Oh, were you thinking of that?"
"Why not, Mrs. Kenworthy? Martha—wouldn't want to live in it."