politics, reforms, world movements generally found him
indifferent, but he would occasionally favour his wife with a
sudden opinion as to China or intensive farming or Lloyd's
shipping. She knew when he did this that he was quoting. He
whistled over his dressing, read the paper at breakfast, and was
gone. At noon he rushed in, always late, devoured his lunch
appreciatively, and was gone again. At night he was usually tired,
inclined to quarrel about small matters, inclined to disapprove of
the new positions of the bedroom furniture, or the way Cherry's
hair was dressed.

He loved to play poker and was hospitable to a certain extent. He
would whistle and joke over the preparations for a rarebit after a
game, and would willingly walk five blocks for beer if Cherry had
forgotten to get it. On Sunday he liked to see her prettily
gowned; now and then they motored with his friends from the mine;
more often walked, ate a hearty chicken dinner, and went to a cold
supper in the neighbourhood, with "Five Hundred" to follow. At ten
their hostess would flutter into her kitchen; there would be
lemonade and beer and rich layer cake. Then the men would begin to
match poker hands, and the women to discuss babies in low tones.

Cherry never saw her husband so animated or so interested as when
men he had known before chanced to drift into town, mining men
from Nevada or from El Nido, or men he had known in college. They
would discuss personalities, would shout over recollected good
times, would slap each other on the back and laugh tirelessly.

She thought him an extremely difficult man to live with, and was
angered when her hints to this effect led him to remark that she