"Men are always in the right. No coffee, thank you."
"Sure?"
"Quite."
"No; it is not my experience," he went on. "Take the case of all the chaps I know who've married women who played up to them. Without exception they curse in their hearts the day they met them."
"If anything's wrong, it's owing to the husband's selfishness."
"Little Mavis—I'm going to call you that—you don't know what rot you're talking."
"Rot is often the inconvenient common sense of other people," commented Mavis.
"It isn't as if marriage were for a day," he went on, "or for a week, or two years. Then, it wouldn't matter very much whom one married. But it's for a lifetime, whether it turns out all right or whether it don't. What?"
"I see; you'd have men choose wives as you would a house or an umbrella," she suggested.
"People would be a jolly sight happier if they did," he replied, to add, after looking intently at Mavis: "Though, after all, I believe I'm talking rot. When one's love time comes, nothing else in the world matters; every other consideration goes phut, as it should."