an inspiring lot, anyway. From what little I've seen of them, they haven't
more than an idea apiece. They'd bore me to death in a week."

"I know that. They'd bore me, too. Don't talk about them. When do they
expect the _Panama_--do you know?"

But with masculine persistence he refused to abandon the topic.

"I must confess I don't see the point," he insisted. "You've got more
brains than the whole lot of them together, you've got more sense, you're a
lot better looking"--he surveyed her, standing in the full light by the
canary's cage, her little glossy head thrown back, her pink lips pouted
teasingly at the charmed and agitated bird, her fine clear features
profiled in the gold of the sunshine--"and you're a thoroughbred, egad,
which most of them are not."

"Oh, thank you, kind sir." She threw him a humourous glance. "But of course
that is not the point."

"Oh, isn't it? Well, perhaps you'll tell me the point."

She left the canary and came to face him.

"I'm not respectable," she said.

At the word he exploded.

"Respectable? What are you talking about? You talk as though--as though we
weren't married, egad!"