She swooped towards him, not noticing the furtive yet watchful expression in her husband’s face.
“Give me a kiss, old Morning Post.”
“How is Madam Sophia?”
“Most affable.”
Parker Steel had caught her out-stretched hands. It was as though he were afraid of touching his wife’s lips.
“Making conquests, eh?”
“Waal—I guess that”—and she spoke through her nose.
“Dollars?”
“Enticing them into the family pocket.”
Something in her husband’s eyes touched Betty Steel beneath her vivacity and easy persiflage. Her husband had risen from his chair, released her hands, and moved away towards the fire. She had a sudden instinct telling her that he was not glad of her return.