"Of course not," she sneered, as if she were a thousand years old, "you're only a man—and a very young man."
"You've ceased to love me," he protested, "just because of a little affair I had before I met you?"
Marjorie answered with world-old wisdom: "A woman can forgive a man anything except what he did before he met her."
He stared at her with masculine dismay at feminine logic: "If you can't forgive me, then why do you marry me?"
"For revenge!" she cried. "You brought me on this train all this distance to introduce me to a girl you used to spoon with. And I don't like her. She's awful!"
"Yes, she is awful," Mallory assented. "I don't know how I ever——"
"Oh, you admit it!"
"No."
"Well, I'm going to marry you—now—this minute—with that preacher, then I'm going to get off at Reno and divorce you."
"Divorce me! Good Lord! On what grounds?"