"I can quite see him with his club like the man in--which one of Wagner's ?" "It isn't the club of the savage I object to," coolly protested Gerty, "it's the taste.

Perry has been married to me five years," she continued, reflectively, "a long enough period you would think to teach even a Red Indian that my hair positively shrieks at anything remotely resembling pink.

Yet when I went to the Hot Springs last autumn he actually had this room hung for me in terra-cotta." Trent cast a blank stare about the tapestried walls.
"But where is it ?" he demanded.
"It's gone," was Gerty's brief rejoinder, and she added, after a moment devoted to her cigarette, "now that's where it pays to have the wisdom of the serpent.

I really flatter myself," she admitted complacently, "that I've a genius, I did it so beautifully.

Your young innocent would have mangled matters to the point of butchery and have gloried like a martyr in her domestic squabbles, but I've learned a lesson or two from misfortune, and one of them is that a man invariably prides himself upon possessing the quality he hasn't got.