Dicky and I had been married a little over two weeks. Two weeks
of idiotically happy honeymooning, and then the last three days of
quarrels, reconciliations, jealousies, petty bickerings and the shadow
of real issues between us.

Was this marriage--heights of happiness, depths of despair, with the
humdrum of petty differences between?




VI

A MAID AND MODEL


The chiming of the clock an hour after Dicky had gone to the studio
after our little noon dinner next day warned me that I was not dressed
and that the cooks whose advertisements I had answered might call at
any minute. I dressed and arranged my hair. Just as I put in the last
hairpin the bell rang.

Two women, covertly eyeing each other with suspicion, stood in the
hallway when I opened the door. To my invitation to come in each
responded "Thank you," and the entrance of both was quiet. When they
sat down in the chairs I drew forward for them I mentally appraised
them for a moment.

One was a middle-aged woman of the strongly marked German type. Clean,
trig, grim, she spelled efficiency in every line of her body. The