"Men aren't like women. They set their own lines of conduct."
"What's that in the marriage service," Julia inquired, "about bestowing upon a woman all a man's worldly goods?"
"Ah, well, you think all those things at the time; but they don't work out, really."
"As I always thought," said Julia.
Marie was still away upon her trail. "I don't really let myself go as much as you might think. I'm always dressed for breakfast, if I've been up half the night; I don't allow myself to be slovenly. And however I've had to hurry over putting the children to bed, and cooking dinner and things, I always change my blouse and put on my best slippers before Osborn comes in. I feel—at home I feel as if I look quite nice; but when I come out of it"—she indicated her surroundings—"I realise I'm just a dowd who's fast losing what looks she had. When I come out, and see others, I—I know I can't compete. It makes you almost afraid to come out. And Osborn—while I'm at home, plodding along, you see, he's out, seeing the others all the time. He sees them in the restaurants, and they pass him in the street—girls as I used to be."
"You must leave all these thoughts alone."
"Girls, Julia, as—as I could be again, if I had the chance."
"Would you like a cigarette?" Julia asked abruptly; "if so, we'll go to the smoke-room."
"I'd love it; it's ages since I smoked. But I haven't time. I must be going."
"Already?"