"No. Nothing counts unless I have that. Do—do you think that I'm being silly?"
"Well—"
"I don't want to be beautiful, because I know you don't want me to be."
He sounded amazed. "Whoever told you that?"
"Do you think that after living with you for two years, I don't know? If you had wanted a beautiful wife, you'd have married one. Instead, you chose me. You wanted to be the good-looking one of the family. You're vain, Fred. Don't try to deny it, because it would be no use. You're vain. Not that I mind it, but you are."
"Are you feeling all right, Margaret? You sound—overwrought."
"I'm not. I'm being very logical. If I were either ugly or beautiful, you'd hate me. If I were ugly, people would pity you, and you wouldn't be able to stand that. And if I were beautiful, they might forget about you. I'm just plain enough for them to wonder why you ever married anyone so ordinary. I'm just the kind of person to supply background for you."
After a moment he said slowly, "I never knew you had ideas like that about me. They're silly ideas. I married you because I loved you."
"Maybe you did. But why did you love me?"