"I'm not sure. What kind of woman do you think she ought to be?"
Merry's face sobered, and she became thoughtfully serious. "First of all, a woman who loved you," she said at length; "that goes without saying."
It was Cosden who smiled this time. "I see you still have some old-fashioned ideas left; I had looked upon you as absolutely up-to-date."
"Is love old-fashioned?"
"Love is a result rather than a cause. It comes from the combination of one or more causes: propinquity, similarity of tastes, natural attributes, I might go on indefinitely. Two natures are attracted to each other before marriage, but love really comes as a result of the closer companionship which follows. Could anything be more common-sense or scientific than that?"
"Is that what men believe?" she asked.
"Not all; which explains the appalling list of matrimonial bankrupts."
They were out beyond Ireland Island now, past the great dry-dock and the barracks. The girl brought the boat about and started on the homeward tack.
"That is a very interesting idea," she said soberly as she shifted to starboard. "It never occurred to me that love had become a commodity. That is very interesting."
"But you haven't told me what kind of woman you think my wife should be," Cosden insisted.