If she lived in a palace at the top of the world
she wouldn't be any happier."
Sylvia smiled faintly at the allusion. "I don't think she has very
much to make her happy," she said. It's a little hard to judge her
under present conditions."
"She's got one of the best for a husband anyway," he maintained.
"Do you think that's everything?" said Sylvia.
"No, I don't," said Burke unexpectedly. "I think he spoils her,
which is bad for any woman. It turns her head in the beginning and
sours her afterwards."
Sylvia turned at that and regarded him, a faint light of mockery in
her eyes. "What a lot you know about women!" she remarked.
He laughed in a way she did not understand. "If I had a wife," he
said, "I'd make her happy, but not on those lines."
"I thought you had one," said Sylvia.
He met her eyes with a sudden mastery which made her flinch in
spite of herself. "No," he said, "I've only a make-believe at
present. Not very satisfying of course; but better than nothing.
There is always the hope that she may some day turn into the real
thing to comfort me."
His words went into silence. Sylvia's head was bent.
After a moment he leaned a little towards her, and spoke almost in
a whisper. "I feel as if I have caught a very rare, shy bird," he
said. "I'm trying to teach it to trust me, but it takes a mighty
lot of time and patience.
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