Within twenty-four hours she was at him about the balcony.
"The summer will be lovely," she said, in reply to his argument about
climate.
"Rubbish," she said, in reply to his argument about safety.
"Who cares for your old breakfast-room?" she said, in reply to his
argument about darkness at breakfast.
"We will have trees planted on that side--big elms," she said, in reply
to his argument about the smoke of the Five Towns spoiling the view.
Whereupon Stephen definitely and clearly enunciated that he should not
build a balcony.
"Oh, but you must!" she protested.
"A balcony is quite impossible," said Stephen, with his firmest
masculinity.
"You'll see if it's impossible," said she, "_when I'm that widow_."
The curious may be interested to know that she has already begun to
plant trees.