“Superb,” I answered, “for Hades. It's just my idea of how things ought to be in Hades. I think, however, that we mortals will stick to the old plan for a little while yet; most of us prefer to marry wives rather than old chaps.”
The remark seemed so to affect my visitor that I suddenly became conscious of a sense of loneliness.
“I don't wish to offend you,” I said, “but I rather like to keep the two separate. Aren't you man enough yet to see the value of variety?”
But there was no answer. The lady had gone. It was evident that she considered me unworthy of further attention.
V. THE EDITING OF XANTHIPPE
After my interview with Xanthippe, I hesitated to approach the type-writer for a week or two. It did a great deal of clicking after the midnight hour had struck, and I was consumed with curiosity to know what was going on, but I did not wish to meet Mrs. Socrates again, so I held aloof until Boswell should have served his sentence. I was no longer afraid of the woman, but I do fear the good fellow of the weaker sex, and I deemed it just as well to keep out of any and all disputes that might arise from a casual conversation with a creature of that sort. An agreement with a real good fellow, even when it ends in a row, is more or less diverting; but a disputation with a female good fellow places a man at a disadvantage. The argumentum ad hominem is not an easy thing with men, but with women it is impossible. Hence, I let the type-writer click and ring for a fortnight.
Finally, to my relief, I recognized Boswell's touch upon the keys and sauntered up to the side of the machine.
“Is this Boswell—Jim Boswell?” I inquired.
“All that's left of him,” was the answer. “How have you been?”