"It must be a lovely thing to live in such a weird place. Sometime, before I die, I hope I may keep a light house. I believe it would be lovely, don't you?" she said.
Now, to tell the truth, the idea never occured to me before, but when she spoke of it I saw my chance.
"My dear girl," I said, "if I had only known that you cared for light house-keeping, I would have spoken before this. Let us discuss the matter; what's the use waiting until long in the future, when the opportunity presents itself now."
And the result was, we pooled our issues, hired a couple of rooms, bribed a minister to say a few words, and kept house in a light way.
Since that time we've had our ups and downs.
But I've never felt toward my better half as that old bear Podgers must, with regard to the partner of his joys and woes.
He rode down with me in the elevator yesterday.