"Then what made you fall in love with me? It certainly was not for soberness."
He shook his head hopelessly, puzzled for the first time by the too obvious contradiction between the ideal and the actual—between the phantom of a man's imagination and the woman who enthralls his heart.
"To save my life I couldn't tell you why I did," he replied. "It does seem, a bit foolish to fall in love with a woman as she is and then try to make her over into something different."
"Judy Hatch was the person God intended for you, I'm sure of it."
"Well, I'm not, and if I were I'd go ahead and defeat his intentions as I'm doubtless doing this minute. Let's make up now, so you'd as well stop talking silliness."
"It's you that talks silliness, not I—as if I were going through life lowering my lashes and looking contemptuous! But you're your mother all over again. I've heard her say a dozen times that a girl who is born homely ought to get down on her knees and thank the Lord for protecting her from temptation."
"You never heard me say it, did you?"
"No, but I shall yet if I live long enough—and all because of your ridiculous jealousy."
The humour of this struck him, and he remarked rather grimly:
"Good God, Molly, what a vixen you are!" Then he broke into a laugh, and catching her to him, stopped her mouth with kisses.