"It isn't only the stables," said Viviette. "Dick is altogether
discontented."

Austin looked at her in amazement. "Discontented?"

"He wants something to do."

"Nonsense," he laughed, with the air of a man certain of his facts.
"He's as happy as a king here. He shoots and hunts--looks after the
place--runs the garden and potters about in his armoury--in fact, does
just what he likes all day long. He goes to bed without a care sharing
his pillow, and, when he wakes up, gets into comfortable country clothes
instead of a tight-fitting suit of responsibilities. For a man of his
tastes he leads an ideal existence."

He threw away the end of the cigarette he was smoking, as though to say
that the argument was finished. But Viviette regarded him with a
smile--the smile of woman's superior wisdom. How astonishingly little he
knew of Dick!

"Do you really think there is one contented being on earth?" she asked.
"Even I know better than that."

Austin maintained that Dick ought to be contented.

"Dependent for practically all he has on you?"

"I've never let him feel it," he said quickly.