“You’re pretty plain-spoken though with everybody,” said Judy critically; “that is, when you want your own way. When you don’t you let people alone. Why are you in such a good temper to-day? Have you been making some money?”
“A little.”
“That’s all you care for, isn’t it?” pursued the girl.
“What do you mean?” he asked, a slight cloud on his face.
“Money is your god,” she said coolly.
He made no reply to her and she went on, “What a pity that you have never married like other men. You’re almost forty, aren’t you?”
“Almost.”
“Just Brian[Brian] Camperdown’s age; only there is this difference between you, he would get married if he could, and you could if you would. I know some one that would have made a nice, proud wife for you.”
“Judy,” he exclaimed, holding himself a little straighter than he usually did, “what are you talking about?”
“Something that you might have done if you had been as sensible as some people.”