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"All right, since it's been a good day, let's go to bed." She put her
hands upon his shoulders. "You're rather dreadful," she said, "but
you're a dear. You don't bite my head off when I urge you to get
married, though I know you want to. But you will some day--I don't mean
bite my head off--won't you, Rod?"
"When I see any prospect of being as lucky as Martin--find a girl who
won't mind when I turn up for dinner looking like a drowned tramp, or
kick her plans to bits, after she's tipped me off as to what she wants
me to do ..."
Frederica took her hands off, stepped back and looked at him. There was
an ironical sort of smile on her lips.
"You're such an innocent," she said. "You've got an idea you know
me--know how I treat Martin. Roddy, dear, a girl's brother doesn't
matter. She isn't dependent on him, nor responsible for him. And if
she's rather sillily fond of him, she's likely to spoil him frightfully.
Don't think the girl you marry will ever treat you like that."
"But look here!" he exclaimed.


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