od arguing. I've suffered and suffered,
and had it all out with myself, and it's over. But I'll tell you
everything, putting it plainly, because I'd like you to understand--if
men ever do trouble to understand. Look at me!"

"I'm looking."

"Then you see I've changed. You thought so when you came in. I'm young
again; I've rested and got my complexion back. My hair's nice; I get
time for regular shampoos now. I spend a lot of my time on myself.
It's lovely. And my teeth, have you noticed them?"

She set them together and opened her lips to show him all the gleamy
whiteness between.

"I spent ten pounds on them, having them filled and cleaned and
polished; I go regularly to the dentist now. And my hands, have you
noticed them?"

Osborn met her question by a dead silence.

"They're as they used to be again. And I've done it all in this year
you've been away. And there's another thing--it occurred to me the
other day when I was wondering what really made all the
difference--there's not been a cross word or a grumble in this flat
for twelve months. That's happiness. Heavens! That keeps women young!"

She stopped and thought, and continued slowly:

"Marriage is funny. It's a thing men can't bear unless it's gilded.
And they vent their intolerance. Do you know that before you went
away--for four years--I scarcely ever expected you to say loving or
civil things. Before you went out in the mornings you shouted for the
breakfast, and I was hurrying all I could; and you grumbled if the
children made a noise. And when you came in, if dinner wasn't ready or
right, you grumbled at that again. And in the week-ends the kids dared
hardly play, and I was buffer all the time between you and them. It's
just what happens in thousands of homes, of course."

"This exaggeration--"

"Ah, it isn't. It sounds bad, but it isn't so very. It's rather
ordinary. And, Osborn, do you remember when I had to ask you for
money--?"

She looked at him freezingly. "Do you think a woman who's been begged
and cajoled and petted into marrying a man enjoys creeping and
crawling to him for odd shillings for household expenses? Do men think
we enjoy it or do it wilfully, that they grudge it so? We can't help
it."

"Where's all this harangue--"

"There's more to it yet. Do you know when you told me you were going
away at once for a year, I thought I was broken? I loved you so. It
seemed awful to see the gladness and relief in your face at leaving