"I stand corrected. He is by no means a remarkable husband. Permit me to say he is a remarkable man."
"What makes you think so?" asked Honora, considerably disturbed.
"Because he induced you to marry him, for one thing," said Brent. "Of course he got you before you knew what you were worth, but we must give him credit for discovery and foresight."
"Perhaps," Honora could not resist replying, "perhaps he didn't know what he was getting."
"That's probably true," Brent assented, "or he'd be sitting here now, where I am, instead of playing poker. Although there is something in matrimony that takes the bloom off the peach."
"I think that's a horrid, cynical remark," said Honora.
"Well," he said, "we speak according to our experiences—that is, if we're not inclined to be hypocritical. Most women are."
Honora was silent. He had thrown away his cigar, and she could no longer see his face. She wondered whither he was leading.
"How would you like to see your husband president of a trust company?" he said suddenly.
"Howard—president of a trust company!" she exclaimed.