He did as she asked.
"Does your wife smoke?" she asked abruptly.
"No." He bent to the sculls again. "I'm afraid she's not very modern."
She caught up the word quickly. "Afraid!"
70 Chris frowned. "I should have said 'glad,' perhaps." He corrected himself rather shortly.
Mrs. Heriot looked at him in silence for a moment, then she said, energetically: "Don't let marriage turn you into a bore, Chris!"
"A bore!" He was so amazed that he dropped his cigarette. "Yes." She smiled teasingly. "It does that with most men, you know."
"I think I can promise you it will not do that with me," he said rather warmly. "I have always loathed the idea of ordinary married life, staying at home night after night, tied to a woman's apron strings, dropping all one's pals . . ." He broke off, coloring warmly. He had said a great deal more than he had intended, and he knew that she had purposely led him on to do so. "Don't you think we had better be getting back?" he asked rather curtly.
"What, already?" she laughed, and, bending forward, looked at a small jewelled watch on her wrist. "Why, it's not nine!" She turned and looked out over the smooth sea. "Let's row out to that boat," she said suddenly. She indicated a small anchored fishing smack with furled sails that looked like a fairy ship in the path of the moonlight.
"We can get on board if there is nobody there. Do! It will be such fun!"