"
She looked at him, gave a low laugh, and said:
"Oh dear!"
Mr. Bosengate was puzzled. Why did she laugh? He looked round, saw that
the children were gone, took his pipe from his mouth, and approached
her.
"You look very pretty," he said. "Give me a kiss!"
His wife bent her body forward from the waist, and pushed her lips out
till they touched his moustache. Mr. Bosengate felt a sensation as if he
had arisen from breakfast, without having eaten marmalade. He mastered
it, and said:
"That jury are a rum lot."
His wife's eyelids flickered. "I wish women sat on juries."
"Why?"
"It would be an experience."
Not the first time she had used that curious expression! Yet her life
was far from dull, so far as he could see; with the new interests
created by the war, and the constant calls on her time made by the
perfection of their home life, she had a useful and busy existence.
Again the random thought passed through him: 'But she never tells me
anything!' And suddenly that lugubrious khaki-clad figure started up
among the rose bushes. "We've got a lot to be thankful for!" he said
abruptly. "I must go to work!" His wife, raising one eyebrow, smiled.
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