"'I mean to find out one thing, answers she: 'whether he's a man--or a
cad.'

"'That's a severe remark,' says I, 'to make about your own husband.'

"'What am I to think?' says she. 'He fooled me into loving him when, as
you say, I was only a child. Do you think I haven't suffered all these
years? It's the girl that cries her eyes out for her lover; we learn to
take 'em for what they're worth later on.'

"'But he's in love with you still,' I says. I knew what was in her mind,
but I wanted to lead her away from it if I could.

"'That's a lie,' says she, 'and you know it.' She wasn't choosing her
words; she was feeling, if you understand. 'He's in love with a pretty
waitress that he met for the first time a fortnight ago.'

"'That's because she reminds him of you,' I replied, 'or because you
remind him of her, whichever you prefer. It shows you're the sort of
woman he'll always be falling in love with.'

"She laughed at that, but the next moment she was serious again. 'A
man's got to fall out of love before he falls into it again,' she
replied. 'I want a man that'll stop there. Besides,' she goes on, 'a
woman isn't always young and pretty: we've got to remember that. We want
something else in a husband besides eyes.'

"'You seem to know a lot about it,' says I.