SUSAN. I do. . . . There is no companion like a wife, if you marry the right woman.
GERVASE. Oh?
SUSAN. I have been married thirty years. Thirty years of happiness.
GERVASE. But in your profession you must go away from your wife a good deal.
SUSAN (smiling). But then I come back to her a good deal.
GERVASE (thoughtfully). Yes, that must be rather jolly.
SUSAN. Why do you think I welcomed your company so much when I came upon you here this morning?
GERVASE (modestly). Oh, well——
SUSAN. It was something to tell my wife when I got back to her. When you are married, every adventure becomes two adventures. You have your adventure, and then you go back to your wife and have your adventure again. Perhaps it is a better adventure that second time. You can say the things which you didn't quite say the first time, and do the things which you didn't quite do. When my week's travels are ever, and I go back to my wife, I shall have a whole week's happenings to tell her. They won't lose in the telling, Mr. Mallory. Our little breakfast here this morning—she will love to hear about that. I can see her happy excited face as I tell her all that I said to you, and—if I can remember it—all that you said to me.
GERVASE (eagerly). I say, how jolly! (Thoughtfully) You won't forget what I said about the Great Percy? I thought that was rather good.