One evening, as I complained of my restaurant meals and of certain inconveniences of my lodgings, Max said: "Nothing like being married, Levinsky. Take my advice and get you a nice little wifey. One like mine, for instance."
"Like yours! The trouble is that there is only one such, and you have captured her." "Don't worry," Dora broke in. "There are plenty of others, and better ones, too."
"I have a scheme," I said, seriously. "Why shouldn't you people let me board with you?"
Natural as the suggestion was, it took them by surprise. For a second or two Max gazed at his wife with a perplexed air. Then he said: "That would not he a bad idea. Would it, Dora?"
"I don't know, I am sure," she answered, with a shrug and an embarrassed smile. "We have never kept boarders."
"You will try to keep one now, then," I urged
"If there were room in the house, I should be glad. Upon my health and strength I should." "Oh, you can make room," I said.
"Of course you can," Max put in, warming to the plan somewhat. "He could have the children's bedroom, and they could sleep in this room."
She held to her veto
"Oh, you don't know what an obstinate thing she is," Max said. "Let her say that white is black, and black it must be, even if the world turned upside down."