She would retaliate by reading aloud a Special in regard to a Husband going after Wife with Axe, while under the Influence of Liquor.
After which, for 15 or 20 minutes, the Dining Room would be just as peaceful and quiet as a Camorra Trial.
Sometimes he would get First Blood, but just as often she would fiddle around for an Opening and then Zowie!—right on the Conk and him Stalling to escape further Punishment.
When Nightfall came they would still be edging around the Ring, whanging away, for each was too Game to be a Quitter.
Their Married Life, which started out with American Beauty Roses in every Vase and a long Piece in the Paper, now settled down to a Thirty Years' War.
The only time when the Dove of Peace really Lit was when they had
Company.
Then they would Dear each other until the Premises became Sticky and she would even coax up a Ripple of Fake Laughter when he pulled some Wheeze that used to go Great the Year they were engaged. But the Moment the last Guest closed the Front Door, the Dove of Peace would beat it and another domestic Gettysburg would drive the Servants to Cover.
After this had been going on for several Seasons he happened to get hold of a Powerful Work, written by a Popular Novelist (Unmarried), who made a psychological Dissection of a Woman's Soul and then preached a Funeral Sermon over the Dead Love that once blossomed in the Heart of the Heroine.
After he read this Tragedy of flickered Romance, he felt like a Pup.
He perceived that he had been in the Wrong.