"
"I daresay I'd have done better to have married you, if that's what you
mean."
It wasn't what I meant. But she'd always entertained the illusion that
she could marry me any minute if she wanted to; and I hadn't the heart
to take it from her since it seemed to console her for the way, the
really very infamous way, he had left her.
So I said, "Much better."
"It would have been so nice, so safe," she said. "But I never played
for safety." Then she made one of her quick turns.
"Frances Archdale ought to marry you. Why doesn't she?"
"How should I know? Frances's reasons would be exquisite. I suppose I
didn't appeal to her sense of fitness."
"Sense of fiddlesticks. She just hasn't got any temperament, that
girl."
"Any temperament for me, you mean."
"I mean pure cussedness," said Lena.
"Perhaps. But, you see, if I were unfortunate enough she probably
_would_ marry me. If I lost my eyesight or a leg or an arm, if I
couldn't sell any more pictures--"
"If you can understand Frances, you can understand me. That's how I
felt about Dickey.
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