He was overwhelmed by her good sense, but he cleared his throat and spoke judiciously:
“Well, now I’ll tell you. Personally I’d never’ve brought it up, but since you speak of it yourself—I don’t admit for a minute that I’ve got any more executive ability or oratory than you have—probably not half as much. And after all, you did start the show; I came in late. But same time, while a woman can put things over just as good as a man, or better, for a while, she’s a woman, and she isn’t built to carry on things like a man would, see how I mean?”
“Would it be better for the Kingdom if I forgot my ambition and followed you?”
“Well, I don’t say it’d be better. You’ve certainly done fine, honey. I haven’t got any criticisms. But same time, I do think we ought to think it over.”
She had remained still, a kneeling silver statue. Now she dropped her head against his knees, crying:
“I can’t give it up! I can’t! Must I?”
He was conscious that people were strolling near. He growled, “Say, for goodness’ sake, Shara, don’t holler and carry on like that! Somebody might hear!”
She sprang up. “Oh, you fool! You fool!”
She fled from him, along the sands, through the rays of the revolving cross, into the shadow. He angrily rubbed his back against the sand dune and grumbled:
“Damn these women! All alike, even Shary; always getting temperamental on you about nothing at all! Still, I did kind of go off half cocked, considering she was just beginning to get the idea of letting me boss the show. Oh, hell, I’ll jolly her out of it!”