lexities. He had taken her for granted for so
long that it was uncomfortable to get re-adjusted to her. He found
himself gazing at her, when they were together, as at some stranger.

"Jerry, is anything the matter with me?" she asked one evening, finally
aware of this scrutiny.

"No, of course not; why?"

"I find you staring at me so strangely all the time I'm with you. It
makes me self-conscious."

"I beg your pardon."

"Is there something you want to ask me?"

"Has it ever occurred to you that we knew nothing at all about each
other when we married?"

"Yes. That was one of the nicest things about us. We took each other for
what we were, at the time, and asked no tiresome questions."

"Haven't you any curiosity about my past, Jane?"

"No. I married your present; I'm not concerned with anything else."

"That isn't a bit feminine."

"Then it must be masculine, so we agree on the stupidity of historic
autobiography."

"I'm beginning to be interested in your past, Jane."

"Very masculine!" she retorted. "No use, Jerry; it's over and done with.
I'm not even interested in it myself."

"Communicativeness is not a vice with you, I may say."

"That was why you married me, if you remember. You spoke of it specially
the day of the wedding. I warned you then that 'the Man with the Dumb
Wife' had a bad time of it, both while she was dumb and when she was
not!"

"A reasonable amount of confidence between husband and wife is
desirable, don't you think so?"

"I can't say that I do. Who is to decide what is a reasonable
amount--the confidant or the confider? No one can be trusted to say just
enough; I like reserve better, myself."

"Do you advocate our not talking at all?"

"Oh, no. About opinions, ideas, facts, by all means let us have an
exchange--not personal history--soul deliveries--they take away all the
mysteries."

"I suppose that is why I feel sometimes that I am married to you, but
that you live in Mars."

"Poor Jerry! Would you like a babbling, cozy, confiding little wife?"

"I don't know that I'm quite up to the mysteries, Jane."

"Would you like to end our experiment, Jerry?" she said quickly.

"No; of course not. What put such an idea into your head?"

"I'm quite sure that I do not give you all you want, in our union."

"Oh, yes, you do, Jane," he said soothingly.

"I give you all you asked for when we married, but no one stands still;
new demands grow subconsciously. So it has been with