“The life that comes later—your life. What life do you look forward to?” If Marcus imagined Diana looked forward to a life wherein visits to Uncle Marcus on Sundays were things of delirious delight, he was likely to be disappointed.
“Oh, I see—well, I suppose when I have danced a great deal and frivolled a great deal—and cried a great deal—and laughed a great deal—I shall marry.”
“Yes, that’s what I mean, I suppose.” The Sunday visits after all were not so improbable. He would have every conceivable clockwork toy in the cupboard. “Now what are your ideas of marriage—just having a good time?”
“Partly; of course, I should like a pearl necklace—or a rope, perhaps—and three babies.”
“And what sort of a mother would you be?”
“A good, hard-working, honest mother, of course—”
“Hard-working?”
“I should work hard to make them good babies.”
“And their father? What sort of a man should he be?”
“Like my father, if another exists.”