“Would you be content to stop then?” he asked. He had a trick of looking downward with a quizzical expression in his dark grey eyes.
“No,” said Honora. “I should want to go on and see everything in the world worth seeing. Sometimes I feel positively as though I should die if I had to stay here in St. Louis.”
“You probably would die—eventually,” said Peter.
Honora was justifiably irritated.
“I could shake you, Peter!”
He laughed.
“I'm afraid it wouldn't do any good,” he answered.
“If I were a man,” she proclaimed, “I shouldn't stay here. I'd go to New York—I'd be somebody—I'd make a national reputation for myself.”
“I believe you would,” said Peter sadly, but with a glance of admiration.
“That's the worst of being a woman—we have to sit still until something happens to us.”