“Well,” he said, “it isn't a bad trip on the boat, and I get a change from New York; and see men I shouldn't probably see otherwise.” He paused and looked at her again, doubtfully. “Why do you ask such a question?”
“I wished to be sure,” said Honora.
“Sure of what?”
“That the-arrangement suited you perfectly. You do not feel—the lack of anything, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You wouldn't care to stay in Newport all the time?”
“Not if I know myself,” he replied. “I leave that part of it to you.”
“What part of it?” she demanded.
“You ought to know. You do it pretty well,” he laughed. “By the way, Honora, I've got to have a conference with Mr. Wing to-day, and I may not be home to lunch.”
“We're dining there to-night,” she told him, in a listless voice.