Anne Warner

“ She took it out of his mouth at that, shook the ash off, and put it back.
“Won't you say ‘Thank you'?” she said.
“But I didn't ask you to do it.”
“”No, but it's polite.”
“But I'm not polite. That's one good reason why you should give up this fool idea of marrying me. And anyway you've never said ‘Thank you' for this nice rocking you're getting.”
“I'm very grateful, anyhow. I'm perfectly happy. You can't think how happy you're making me.”
“Yes, I can. I know exactly how to make any woman happy.” ”

“ Why should I?”
“Some do. I did.”
“You're a man. That's different.”
“Yes, a man is different.”
“I don't want to ever be refused again.”
“It isn't nice,” said the man. “Even a man doesn't like it, I assure you.” ”

“ He rose, too, and went over by the chimneypiece, scratched a match, and began to light the cigarette.
“Is the clock right?” he queried.
“Just about. Why?”
“I've got to go at four.”
“So soon? I thought you'd stay for tea.”
“Oh, no.”
She came over beside him and stood there, resting her face against his sleeve.
“Don't you think that I'd make a good wife?” she asked, looking thoughtfully into her own thoughtful eyes reflected in the mirror.
“The dearest, sweetest little wife in all the world. Only, you see, I don't want a wife.” ”