“Oh, of course,” agreed Betsy, busily plaiting withes, “until you know!”
“Why, everything is just as it was thirty years ago—ain’t it, Betsy?”
“John,” laughed Betsy, trying to plunge upon him from her work, “did it ever occur to you that your love-making nowadays consists largely of recalling those other love-makings—in ’35, you know?”
John thought a moment.
“Why, so it is, Betsy—so it is.”
“All imagination.”
“That’s just as good—just as good,” said John, stubbornly. “It’s always new.”
“Just as good,” laughed his wife, “when you don’t know no better—and we don’t, John, do we?”
“No, thank God,” said John, “and I don’t want to.”
“So don’t I,” said his wife, laughing.