"And how about the children?"
"Oh, the kids—that's woman's business," the fat man replied carelessly. "Pass the cigarettes, will you," and the talk went off somewhere else....
Children were not all "woman's business," Milly felt indignantly. She had surprised her pretty little maid Yvonne in a lonely lane one moonlight night, in company with a tall man, who did not look like a Breton. She had reported the fact to her husband, with her suspicions as to the tall man, observing,—"Men are so horrid!" to which Jack had merely laughed easily. She had scolded him for his frivolity, also scolded Yvonne, who cried, yet somehow seemed to smile through her tears.
To-night when her husband came up for bed, she asked seriously,—
"You don't believe all that stuff Steve Belchers was saying, do you?"
"What stuff?"
"About artists and women."
Bragdon yawned and laughed. Milly came close to him and put her arm about his neck.
"You don't feel that your temperament is ruined by marriage, do you?"
"Never knew I had one before," he replied jokingly.