He could not believe that his darling was gone for good, that the selfish woman of the world usurping her throne would not one day be dislodged. He told himself fiercely that one day summer would return—that peerless season when she had returned his love and had cared for the light in his eyes.
And now, for the first time since their marriage, Blanche had shown him affection though he brought her no gift. More. The darling had turned and rent the woman of the world.
When Titus re-entered the room, his wife, who was stroking the terrier, looked up with shining eyes.
“I’ve got it, old fellow,” she said. “I know what my trouble is. I’ve nothing to do.”
“This is reaction,” he said. “You stay where you are, sweetheart, and I’ll get you a drink.”
“No, it isn’t,” said Blanche. “I’m sane as sane. I’ve not been happy, you know—splashing about. That’s really why I splurged. I felt if I went all out perhaps I’d get there. I haven’t, of course. You never do. That way there’s nowhere to get. Then again—without an anchor I’m frightfully weak. I’m not a waster by nature, but put me among the wasters and I’ll waste away. I must have an anchor, Ti—an object in life. When you first knew me I had one. It was—to marry you. Then I lost that anchor . . . last June . . . in Eaton Square. . . . Since then . . . Ti, my dear, I’m going to open a shop.”
“Moses’ boots,” said Titus, sitting down on a chair. “What are you going to purvey?”
“Brains,” said Blanche. “My brains. And yours, if you will. It’ll cost us next to nothing except the rent. And we ought to make that on our heads. If we make no more, it doesn’t matter. I shall have something to do. But we must have a decent pitch.”
“Of course,” said Titus, “of course you’ve got me beat. I thought you sold brains by the pound.”
“Ideas, my darling, ideas. _The Cheviots, Decorators._ We’ve each got an excellent eye. You can do the halls and libraries, and I’ll do the drawing-rooms. We shall be frightfully _chic_ and outrageously expensive. But we must have a decent pitch.”
“I don’t know about the _chic_,” he said dazedly, “but I shall be expensive all right. I’m sure of that. Almost costly. By the time they’ve paid me a tenner and then paid somebody else two tenners to rub it all out and do it again——”