"Haven't you thought how delighted Doria will be?"

"I haven't," said I. "I've more important things to think about."

"But," said Barbara, entering and closing the door with soft
deliberation behind her and coming to my side--"if Adrian makes a big
success, they'll be able to marry."

"Well?" said I.

"Well," said she, with a different intonation. "Don't you see?"

"See what?"

It is wise to irritate your wife on occasion, so as to manifest your
superiority. She shook me by the collar and stamped her foot.

"Don't you care a bit whether your friends get married or not?"

"Not a bit," said I.

Barbara lifted the Macan's Firdusi, still suffering the desecration of
the forgotten cage of white mice, onto my manuscript and hoisted herself
on the cleared corner of the table.

"Doria is my dearest friend. She did my sums for me at school, although
I was three years older. If it hadn't been for us, she and Adrian would
never have met."