would suffer before she realized the truth of this lesson he had
already learned, and Martin felt a little pity for her.

When he went in for supper, Rose was just beginning to prepare
it. With a catch of anger in his manner, he gave her a sharp look
and saw that she had been crying. He couldn't remember ever
before having had to deal with a weeping woman; even when Benny
had died and his mother had been so shaken she had not given way
to tears; so this was to be another of the new experiences which
must trot in with marriage. It annoyed him.

"What's the matter, Rose?"

"Nothing at all, Martin."

"Nothing? You don't cry about nothing, do you?"

"No." Rose felt a sudden fear; she sensed a lack of pity in
Martin, an unwillingness even to try to understand her
conflicting emotions.

"Then you're crying about something. What is it?" There was
command in his question. Martin was losing patience. He knew
tears were used as weapons by women, but why in the world should
Rose need any sort of weapon on the first day of their marriage?
He hadn't done anything to her, said anything unkind. Was she
going to be unreasonable? Now he was sure it was all wrong.

"What's the matter?" he demanded, his voice rising.