which he expressed them.

"On another occasion," declared Alfred, now carried away by the recital
of his long pent up wrongs, "you told me that all babies should be put
in cages, shipped West, and kept in pens until they got to be of an
interesting age. 'Interesting age!'" he repeated with a sneer, "meaning
old enough to take YOU out to luncheon, I suppose."

"I never said any such thing," objected Zoie.

"Well, that was the idea," insisted Alfred. "I haven't your glib way of
expressing myself."

"You manage to express yourself very well," retorted Zoie. "When
you have anything DISAGREEABLE to say. As for babies," she continued
tentatively, "I think they are all very well in their PLACE, but they
were NEVER meant for an APARTMENT."

"I offered you a house in the country," shouted Alfred.

"The country!" echoed Zoie. "How could I live in the country, with
people being murdered in their beds every night? Read the papers."

"Always an excuse," sighed Alfred resignedly. "There always HAS been
and there always would be if I'd stay to listen. Well, for once," he
declared, "I'm glad that we have no children. If we had, I might feel
some obligation to keep up this farce of a marriage. As it is," he
continued, "YOU are free and _I_ am free." And with a courtly wave of
his arm, he dismissed Zoie and the entire subject, and again he started
in pursuit of Mary and his hat.

"If it's your freedom you wish," pouted Zoie with an abused air, "you
might have said so in the first place."

Alfred stopped in sheer amazement at the cleverness with which the
little minx turned his every statement against him.

"It's not very manly of you," she continued, "to abuse me just because
you've found someone whom you like better."

"That's not true," protested Alfred hotly, "and you know it's not true."
Little did he suspect the trap into which she was leading him.

"Then you DON'T love anybody more than you do me?" she cried eagerly,
and she gazed up at him with adoring eyes.

"I didn't say any such thing," hedged Alfred.

"Then you DO," she accused him.

"I DON'T," he declared in self defence.

With a cry of joy, she sprang into his arms, clasped her fingers tightly
behind his neck, and rained impulsive kisses upon his unsuspecting face.

For an instant, Alfred looked down at Zoie, undecided whether to
strangle her or to return her embraces. As usual, his self-respect won
the day for him and, with a determined effort, he lifte