"Oh," she said. Then after a moment: "This baby is the first one I ever really wanted. You see, I'm in love now—at last."
He didn't answer, shocked at the treachery of her remembrance. She must have seen that the "at last" bruised him, for she continued:
"I was infatuated with you, Anson—you could make me do anything you liked. But we wouldn't have been happy. I'm not smart enough for you. I don't like things to be complicated like you do." She paused. "You'll never settle down," she said.
The phrase struck at him from behind—it was an accusation that of all accusations he had never merited.
"I could settle down if women were different," he said. "If I didn't understand so much about them, if women didn't spoil you for other women, if they had only a little pride. If I could go to sleep for a while and wake up into a home that was really mine—why, that's what I'm made for, Paula, that's what women have seen in me and liked in me. It's only that I can't get through the preliminaries any more."
Hagerty came in a little before eleven; after a whiskey Paula stood up and announced that she was going to bed. She went over and stood by her husband.
"Where did you go, dearest?" she demanded.
"I had a drink with Ed Saunders."
"I was worried. I thought maybe you'd run away."
She rested her head against his coat.