"You ought to know."

"Oh, come off that silly pedestal of pretence. Cynicism's rotten.
Marriage is the only life."

"'Never for me!'" Rokeby quoted Julia.

"Awful girl!" said Osborn, referring to her briefly. "'Orrid female.
What?"

"Very handsome," said Rokeby.

"Handsome! I've never seen it. She's not to be compared to Marie,
anyway. You haven't answered my question. Don't you think I'm lucky?"

"Yes, you are," replied Rokeby sincerely, turning to look at him, "for
any man to be as happy as you seem to be even for five minutes is a
great big slice of luck to be remembered."

"Marie's a wonderful girl. She can do absolutely anything, I believe.
It seems incredible that a girl with hands like hers can cook and sew,
but she can. Isn't it a wonder?"

"It sounds ripping."

They walked on in silence, Osborn back up in his clouds. At last he
awaked to say:

"Well, here we are. You'll come in?"