"So am I. Being a woman, the fact that I am married, that I have a child, gives me more to say. Everything that enriches my life makes it more impossible for me to be dumb. Isn't that true with you, too, Jerry?"
"It's different with me; creation happens to be my job—my livelihood."
"So it must be mine, some day, although that isn't the ideal way. Earning a living by some other means, or having it provided and then creating what your spirit urges you to do, that's the ideal."
"But you had that before you married me, according to your story."
"Yes. But I had nothing vital to say."
"But if I provide the vitality and the livelihood," bitterly.
"Jerry, that is the only unfair and unkind thing I ever heard you say."
"I'm sorry, Jane, but all this is rather a blow, you know. I don't believe in women having careers after they are married. I always said I would never marry a woman artist."
"Granted that you have been deceived in me, Jerry. Whether that is your fault or mine is of no importance. Have I made you a reasonably satisfactory wife, considering the kind of marriage we made?"
"I suppose so."