"It isn't that at all," she said, poutingly.
"You are only eighteen," he observed.
"I am sorry you regret having married one so young."
"I don't regret it,—it was unavoidable."
"Why didn't you wait until I was older?"
"Ah, why did I not?" he asked, with some humour.
"Justin," she said, wistfully, "there is some mystery about you and papa and myself,—what is it?"
Her husband did not answer her. He took off his glasses, rubbed his hand over his eyes, stifled a yawn, and glanced at his watch.
"You are provoking," she said, petulantly. "When you don't want to tell me anything, you just keep still."
"I have nothing to tell you on this subject."