"And you say you're no psychiatrist," said Fellowes. "Charley, if you weren't a damned good one you'd never be able to hold down the job you do at the bank."
"Can't you two talk anything but shop?" Marie asked irritably. She stood up, added, "This dreadful Dubois man—I don't see why we have to have reformers anyway. The world would be all right if some people weren't always trying to change it."
"Change is the natural order," Justin said mildly.
"Only because men like this Dubois make it so," said Marie sharply. And, to Jack Fellowes, "I'll be ready in five minutes."
Justin waited till she had left, then said, "You know, Jack, this is charmingly old-fashioned. You and I having a drink together while the woman who has us both in her clutches prepares for the evening."
The psychiatrist winced. "You know, Charley, you can be alarmingly frank at times," he said. "That wasn't funny."
"I know it wasn't," Justin told him. "Nothing about Marie is ever funny. She considers a sense of humor practically subversive. How are you getting along with her—professionally?"
Fellowes shrugged, said, "Nowhere, professionally or personally. What's more I suspect you know it, Charley."
"Let's just say I guessed." Justin reached for the bottle to refill his glass, added, "I know Marie. Since she has no intention of facing facts you'll never get out of the batter's box professionally. Personally? Well, she has no intention of giving me any grounds for divorce. Not that I wouldn't appreciate some, Jack."
The psychiatrist said, "Charley, there's just one sort of human that absolutely baffles a man in my profession—that's an absolutely sane man."