"You won't like the life!..."
"Won't I? Perhaps not!... I know some women have a bad time! But every one looks after me!..."
She shifted the conversation to his interests, and kept it there, with one eye on the clock. It was difficult choosing her questions, for all would not do. For instance, she wished to ask him why he did not stop working and enjoy his money; but that would have opened up a direct and personal reply.
"Why do you work so hard?" she said, instead.
"I've got to do something!" he answered; "and, besides, I'm on the point of something big—if I carry it through. In another year I'll be a rich man—quite a rich man!"
He looked away as he said it, ashamed, knowing at heart why he had offered it up to her thus against his fifty years! But in a moment, chirping ahead rapidly, she had put him at his ease, and keeping the conversation on light topics, avoided further dangers.
He left her with stiff formal bows, placing her in his automobile and giving the chauffeur directions.
The car went smoothly through the crush. It was a good car,—she was a judge!—in perfect order. Whatever Peavey did was always of the best. The chauffeur had quite an air, too. She disturbed the heavy fur rugs that had been so carefully wrapped about her little feet, sunk her head gratefully against the cushions, and thought, with a long easy breath:
"Well, that's one thing I could do!"
She began to consider it from all points of view: