As the city was constantly swept by epidemics Dr. Talbot rarely left
his post for even a few days' shooting, and Madeleine remained with
him as a matter of course. Moreover, she hoped for occasional long
evenings with her husband and the opportunity to convince him that
her companionship was more satisfying than that of his friends at the
Club. She had not renounced the design of gradually converting him to
her own love of literature, and pictured delightful hours during
which they would discuss the world's masterpieces together.

But he merely hooted amiably and pinched her cheeks when she
approached the subject tentatively. He was infernally over-worked and
unless he had a few hours' relaxation at the Club he would be unfit
for duty on the morrow. She was his heart's delight, the prettiest
wife in San Francisco; he worked the better because she was always
lovely at the breakfast table and he could look forward to a brief
dinner in her always radiant company. Thank God, she never had the
blues nor carried a bottle of smelling salts about with her. And she
hadn't a nerve in her body! God! How he did hate women's nerves. No,
she was a model wife and he adored her unceasingly. But
companionship? When she timidly uttered the word, he first stared
uncomprehendingly, then burst into loud laughter.

"Men don't find companionship in women, my dear. If they pretend to
they're after something else. Take the word of an old stager for
that. Of course there is no such thing as companionship among women
as men understand the term, but you have Society, which is really all
you want. Yearnings are merely a symptom of those accursed nerves.
For God's sake forget them. Flirt all you choose--there are plenty of
men in town; have them in for dinner if you like--but if any of those