"I know it's too much to expect of a man to be as solicitous about his wife as he is about his business," she replied. "Otherwise he would hesitate before he threw her into the arms of Mr. Trixton Brent. I warn you that he is very attractive to women."
"Hang it," said Howard, "I can't see what you're driving at. I'm not throwing you into his arms. I'm merely asking you to be friendly with him. It means a good deal to me—to both of us. And besides, you can take care of yourself. You're not the sort of woman to play the fool."
"One never can tell," said Honora, "what may happen. Suppose I fell in love with him?"
"Don't talk nonsense," he said.
"I'm not so sure," she answered, meditatively, "that it is nonsense. It would be quite easy to fall in love with him. Easier than you imagine. curiously. Would you care?" she added.
"Care!" he cried; "of course I'd care. What kind of rot are you talking?"
"Why would you care?"
"Why? What a darned idiotic question—"
"It's not really so idiotic as you think it is," she said. "Suppose I allowed Mr. Brent to make love to me, as he's very willing to do, would you be sufficiently interested to compete."
"To what?"