"Why of course I am," he replied cordially. "That's easy," and he fumbled in his inner pocket.
"Is that where you keep your reasons?" she mischievously inquired.
"It's where I keep yours," he promptly answered, producing the little notebook. "Now look here—I've got these all answered—you won't be able to hold to one of 'em after this. May I sit by you and explain?"
She made room for him on the sofa amiably enough, but defied him to convince her. "Go ahead," she said cheerfully.
"First," he read off, "Previous Marriage. This is not a sufficient objection. Because you have been married you now know what to choose and what to avoid. A girl is comparatively helpless in this matter; you are armed. That your first marriage was unhappy is a reason for trying it again. It is not only that you are better able to choose, but that by the law of chances you stand to win next time. Do you admit the justice of this reasoning?"
"I don't admit anything," she said. "I'm waiting to ask you a question."
"Ask it now."
"No—I'll wait till you are all through. Do go on."
"'Second—The Boy,'" he continued. "Now Mrs. Leland, solely on the boy's account I should advise you to marry again. While he is a baby a mother is enough, but the older he grows the more he will need a father. Of course you should select a man the child could love—a man who could love the child."
"I begin to suspect you of deep double-dyed surreptitious designs, Mr. Olmstead. You know Johnnie loves you dearly. And you know I won't marry you," she hastily added.