Honora sat up.
"Why—why did he 'back out'?" she demanded.
"He preferred to stay where he was, I suppose," replied Brent, in another tone. "The point is that the place is empty. I'll give it to YOU."
"To me?"
"Certainly," said Brent, "I don't pretend to care anything about your husband. He'll do as well as the next man. His duties are pretty well —defined."
Again she was silent. But after a moment dropped back in her chair and laughed uneasily.
"You're preposterous," she said; "I can't think why I let you talk to me in this way."
CHAPTER VIII
OF MENTAL PROCESSES—FEMININE AND INSOLUBLE
Honora may be pardoned for finally ascribing to Mr. Brent's somewhat sardonic sense of humour his remarks concerning her husband's elevation to a conspicuous position in the world of finance. Taken in any other sense than a joke, they were both insulting and degrading, and made her face burn when she thought of them. After he had gone—or rather after she had dismissed him—she took a book upstairs to wait for Howard, but she could not read. At times she wished she had rebuked Trixton Brent more forcibly, although he was not an easy person to rebuke; and again she reflected that, had she taken the matter too seriously, she would have laid herself open to his ridicule. The lion was often unwittingly rough, and perhaps that was part of his fascination.