"Go on, go on, laugh!" he spluttered; "you're a good pair, you and your sister. Say something else funny, Cecilia, and make little brother laugh. What a crowd to have married into! Shrieks of laughter at every feeble joke, but as for intelligent conversation——"
"Well, we're reading," said Cecilia; "we don't want intelligent conversation."
"There's no need to tell me that. I know it only too well. I haven't been married to you for all these years without seeing that."
"'All these years,'" repeated Cecilia, aghast. "The vindictive brute."
"And," continued John bitterly, "I say again what I said just now: How the world progresses."
"Well, there's no need to keep on saying it, dear old cauliflower," I said; "we know it progresses. What are we expected to say?"
"I know," said Cecilia brightly. "Why?"
John pulled himself up.
"Because," he said, "they are proposing in the paper here to start a system of temporary marriages which can be dissolved if either party is dissatisfied after a fair trial. I only wish somebody had thought of it—how many?—eight years ago."
Cecilia's jaw dropped. I chuckled.