"Jane," he said one day, "you're so comfortable."
"Am I?"
"I think that's why I married you."
"So many men marry for that reason."
"Jane, Jane, how you do prick my bubbles of conceit. They snap around me all the time."
"It's quite unintentional," she smilingly protested.
"So much the worse. Just how conceited do you think me, Jane?"
"I've known one man more conceited."
"Jane, did I say you were comfortable?"
"I don't want to be too comfortable. That's dull, don't you think?"