"And of all things for a man to harrow up his soul about! Not liking it
because his wife is never horrid to him!"
"It's not as crazy as it sounds. Are you and I a couple of plaster
saints? Well, hardly! Then why don't we have any quarrels? It's just
because you're sorry for me! I'll not have you being sorry for me!" he
concluded, almost angrily.
But when she kissed him, he could not resist a smile. "You don't know
much, do you, Karl? Don't you know that we don't quarrel about little
things, because we've had so many big things on hand? We don't swear at
each other, because--"
"Because we have so many other things to swear at," he finished for her.
"That's it. All our fighting emotion is being used up."
"Oh, you're such a genius for making things seem right! Now looking at it
that way, I'm quite reconciled to your being nice to me. Still I want you
to promise that if you ever feel like swearing, you will."
"I promise," she responded solemnly.
"Don't do things--or not do things--because you're sorry for me,
Ernestine.
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