indifferent to anything Bertram did!''

She dropped the paper; but there were still
other quotations from the book there, she knew;
and in a moment she was back at the table reading them.

``No man, however fondly he loves his wife,
likes to feel that she is everlastingly peering into
the recesses of his mind, and weighing his every
act to find out if he does or does not love her to-
day as well as he did yesterday at this time. . . .
Then, when spontaneity is dead, she is the chief
mourner at its funeral. . . . A few couples never
leave the Garden of Eden. They grow old hand
in hand. They are the ones who bear and forbear;
who have learned to adjust themselves to
the intimate relationship of living together. . . .
A certain amount of liberty, both of action and
thought, must be allowed on each side. . . . The
family shut in upon itself grows so narrow that all
interest in the outside world is lost. . . . No
two people are ever fitted to fill each other's
lives entirely. They ought not to try to do it.
If they do try, the process is belittling to each,
and the result, if it is successful, is nothing less
than a tragedy; for it could not mean the highest
ideals, nor the truest devotion. . . . Brushing up
against other interests and other personalities is
good for both husband and wife. Then to each
other they bring the best of what they have