“Isn't it high time to be thinking of the winter?” she asked. “It's nearly the end of September.”
He was inarticulate for a few moments, in an evident desperate attempt to rally his forces to meet such an unforeseen attack.
“Who said anything about going to town?” he inquired.
“Now, Howard, don't be foolish,” she replied. “Surely you didn't expect to stay in Quicksands all winter?”
“Foolish!” he repeated, and added inconsequently, “why not?”
“Because,” said Honora, calmly, “I have a life to lead as well as you.”
“But you weren't satisfied until you got to Quicksands, and now you want to leave it.”
“I didn't bargain to stay here in the winter,” she declared. “You know very well that if you were unfortunate it would be different. But you're quite prosperous.”
“How do you know?” he demanded unguardedly.
“Quicksands tells me,” she said. “It is—a little humiliating not to have more of your confidence, and to hear such things from outsiders.”