“You don’t love that lady much, eh?”
Mrs. Betty’s refined superciliousness trifled with the suggestion.
“Kate Murchison? I cannot say that I ever trouble much about her. Rather fat and vulgar—perhaps. Fat women do not appeal to me; they seem to carry sentimentality and gush about with them like patchouli. Do you think that you are gaining ground on Murchison, Parker, eh?”
The husband appeared confident.
“Perhaps.”
“Old Hicks will resign the Hospital soon; you must take it.”
“Not worth the trouble.”
Mrs. Betty’s dark eyes condemned the assertion.
“Dirt’s money in the wrong place, as they say in trade, Parker.”
“Well?” And the amused consort glanced at her with a cold flicker of affection.