"Of course: divorce and birth are both expensive. If you would look into the matter a little closer, Captain, I think you would find that the growth of child labour and the cost of living have about as much to do with the fall in the birth-rate as anything else. Some of our divorces are granted to foreigners that come to America because they can't get easy divorces in their native lands. Most are given for desertion, which generally means that they are arranged by mutual consent. Nearly as many result from charges of 'cruelty,' which is as often as not the man's habit of whistling in the house when his wife has a headache—'constructive cruelty' we call it, although 'concocted cruelty' would be a better term. Adultery comes only next, I am told, and then neglect to provide, and drunkenness. The other causes are all lower in the list. So you see that when our divorces are not really the result of a quiet agreement between the husband and wife—and every judge that signs a decree knows in his heart that nine-tenths are that—they are the result of conduct which, for anybody who does not consider marriage a sacrament, abundantly justifies the action."
The talk shifted to Wall Street and continued for half an hour.
"Von Klausen has some antiquated ideas," remarked Stainton to Muriel as they were going to bed that night; "but he seems to be a pretty good sort of man. I like him."
Muriel was standing before the mirror, brushing the blue-black hair that fell nearly to her knees.
"Do you?" she asked, with no show of interest.
"Yes, he has good stuff in him. Of course, he's a mere boy, but he has good stuff in him, I'm sure."
"I don't see why you call him a boy," said Muriel,
"Why? Why, because he is a boy, my dear."
"I'm sure you seem just as young as he is."
Stainton laughed and kissed her.