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Graham could
take hold then. He might even go into politics. He would be fifty
then, and a man of fifty should be in his prime. And to retire and
do nothing was impossible. A fellow went to seed.
Eyes on the wood fire, he talked on until at last, roused by
Natalie's silence, he glanced up. She was sound asleep.
Some time later, in his dressing-gown and slippers, he came and
roused her. She smiled up at him like a drowsy child.
"Awfully tired," she said. "Is Graham in?"
"Not yet."
She held up her hands, and he drew her to her feet.
"You've been awfully dear about the house," she said. And standing
on tiptoe, she kissed him on the cheek. Still holding both her
hands, he looked down at her gravely.
"Do you really think that, Natalie?"
"Of course."
"Then - will you do something in return?"
Her eyes became shrewd, watchful.
"Anything in reason."
"Don't, don't, dear, make Graham afraid of me."
"As if I did! If he is afraid of you, it is your own fault"
"Perhaps it is.


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