Page:The Fruit of the Tree (Wharton 1907).djvu/217

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THE FRUIT OF THE TREE

tain dulled sensations of their first days together, when to handle and examine these frail little accessories of her toilet had been part of the wonder and amusement of his new existence. He could still hear her laugh as she leaned over him, watching his mystified look in the glass, till their reflected eyes met there and drew down her lips to his. He laid down the fragrant powder-puff he had been turning slowly between his fingers, and moved back toward the bed. In the interval he had reached a decision.

“Well—isn’t it natural that I should think so?” he began again, as he stood beside her. “When we married I never expected you to care or know much about economics. It isn’t a quality a man usually chooses his wife for. But I had a fancy—perhaps it shows my conceit that when we had lived together a year or two, and you’d found out what kind of a fellow I was in other ways—ways any woman can judge of—I had a fancy that you might take my opinions on faith when it came to my own special business—the thing I’m generally supposed to know about.”

He knew that he was touching a sensitive chord, for Bessy had to the full her sex’s pride of possessorship. He was human and faulty till others criticized him—then he became a god. But in this case a conflicting influence restrained her from complete response to his appeal.

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