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“ have no interests in common, Drew; why should we pretend we want to go to the same places?”

“I wonder if married people ever have interests in common? I wonder if any two people have interests in common—or if it’s marriage that makes their interests diverge?”

“There you go, with your inane wondering! I often wonder what you’ll find to wonder about after you’ve wondered about everything!”

Mrs. Andrew Barham shrugged her petulant shoulders and studied her nose in a tiny mirror as she applied a discretionary amount of powder.

“Don’t overdo that,” and Barham smiled.

He meant it rather by way of jest, but Mrs. Selden took it up.

Now, Mrs. Selden was his mother-in-law, and she was always taking things up. In fact, it was her taking up tendency that was partly responsible for the little rift in the Barhams’ lute.

And there was a rift. Not a very big one, nor did it seem to widen much with the years. But this was due to Barham’s continual and systematic endeavors that it shouldn’t.