"A woman's idea of honour," said the Doctor.
"You needn't criticize it," said his sister Sophy.
"I don't," said the Doctor.
"I can tell you," said Levine, "what with her idea of honour and Hugh's idea of honour, the office had a pretty rough time of it till they got the business fixed."
"With Hugh's ideas," said John, "he's hardly likely to make this thing pay, is he? Especially if he's going to bar politics."
He said it importantly. By a manner, by wearing spectacles, and brushing his hair back in two semi-circles from his forehead, Mr. John Brodrick contrived to appear considerably more important than he was.
"Ah, he's made a mistake there," said the Doctor.
"That's what I tell him." Levine was more excited than ever.
"I should think he might be allowed to do what he likes," said Sophy. "After all, it's his magazine."
Mr. Levine's face remained supernaturally polite while it guarded his opinion that it wasn't his brother-in-law's magazine at all. They had disagreed about Tanqueray. They had disagreed about everything connected with the magazine, from the make-up of the first number to the salary of the sub-editor. They had almost quarreled about what Levine called "Miss Holland's price." And now, when his wife said that it was Sunday—and if they were going to talk business all the afternoon—she was told that Hugh's magazine wasn't business. It was Hugh's game. (His dreadfully expensive, possibly ruinous game.)