"I know it, Joe."
"Even our honeymoon—that can't be repeated, can it?"
"No," she said, sadly, "I guess it cannot."
"And this means work, hardship, danger, injustice—all the troubles of mankind."
She pressed his hand.
"Yet you're glad, Myra!"
"I am."
"Tell me why."
"Because," she mused, "it's the beginning of our real life together."
"How so real?"