Mason replied in such wise Sanborn did not know whether to think him bitterly in earnest or only lightly derisive.
"That would overturn all the sentiment and love-lore of a thousand years. It would make every poet from Sappho down to Swinburne a pretender or a madman. Such ideas are supreme treason to all the inspired idiots of poetry. No! glamour we must have."
Sanborn smiled broadly, but Mason did not see him.
"So I say, marry young or marry on the impulse, or you'll come at last to my condition, when no head wears an aureole."
"I wonder what started you off on this trail, Mason?"
Mason pushed on resolutely:
"I have become interested and analytical in the matter. I follow up each case and catalogue it away. This failure due to a distressing giggle; that to an empty skull; this to a bad complexion; that to a too ready sentiment. If I could marry while the glamour lasts! I admit I have met many women whose first appeal filled me with hope; if I might contrive to marry then it might be done once for all. That, of course, is impossible, because no woman, I am forced to admit, would discover any seductive glamour in a taffy-colored blond like me. My glamour comes out upon intimate acquaintance."
"Perhaps the glamour needed could be developed on closer acquaintance with women who seem plain at first sight."
"Possibly! But I can't go about developing glamour in strange, plain women. They might not understand my motives."
Sanborn laughed dismally.