"Will you do that eight years hence?" said Judith.

"My dear, as I've done it eight thousand times the last eight
years, I suppose I shall," I replied, laughing. "I'm a creature
of habit."

"You may marry, Marcus."

"God forbid!" I ejaculated.

"Some pretty fresh girl."

"I abominate pretty fresh girls. I would just as soon talk to a
baby in a perambulator."

"The women men are crazy to marry are not always those they
particularly delight to converse with, my friend," said Judith.

I lit another cigarette. "I think the sex feminine has marriage
on the brain," I exclaimed, somewhat heatedly. "My Aunt Jessica
was worrying me about it the day before yesterday. As if it were
any concern of hers!"

Judith laughed below her breath and called me a simpleton.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because you haven't got a temperament."