"You haven't ever felt the call of the wild?" he asked.
She looked at him, and said, quickly:
"Oh, yes. But it's different for us. We come here to get a new experience, to have a thorough change, and we can get away whenever we like. But just imagine choosing to live here permanently!"
"I'd rather live here than in almost any town."
He was silent for a moment, and his face lost its joyous expression and became almost eagerly anxious. Then he said:
"Ruby, do you hate all this?"
"Hate it! No, it's a novelty; it's strange; it excites me, interests me."
"You are sure?"
He had suddenly thought of her sitting-room in the Savoy. Into what a violently different life he had conveyed her!—into a life that he loved, and that was well fitted for a man to live. He loved such a life, but perhaps he had been, was being selfish. He tried to read her face, and was suddenly full of doubts and fears.
"I like roughing it, of course," he added. "But, I say, you mustn't give in to what I like if it doesn't suit you. We men are infernally selfish."