“Well, I have no objection, if you insist, but you’d better think over what I told you. I think you have made a mistake; and you shall never support me.”
“I never think over my mistakes,” said Bambi. “I just live up to them.”
“I agree with your father that you risk a good deal.”
“Risks are exciting.”
“If you don’t like it, you can divorce me the next time I am in a work fit. I’ll never know it, so it will be painless.”
“Jarvis, that’s unfair.”
He came back quickly.
“That was intended for humour,” he explained.
“I so diagnosed it,” she flashed back at him.
He looked down at her diminutive figure with its well-shaped, patrician head, its sensitive mouth, its wide-set, shining eyes.
“Star-shine,” he smiled.
She poked him with a sharp “What?”
“You don’t think I ought to—to—kiss you, possibly, do you?”
“Mercy, no!”
“Good! I was afraid you might expect something of me.”
