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[Has listened to this last—jokingly]

Hello! What’s this? I never knew you were my hated rival, Charlie!

[Dryly]

Oh—didn’t you really?

[But has turned back to his paper]

[Thinking savagely]

That fool, too! he jokes about it! as if I were the last one in the world he could imagine

[Teasingly]

Well, if I’m responsible, Charlie, I feel I ought to do something about it. I’ll pick out a wife for you—guaranteed to suit! She must be at least ten years older than you, large and matronly and placid, and a wonderful cook and housekeeper—

[Sharply]

Don’t be stupid!

[Thinking angrily]

She picks someone beyond the age! she never imagines sex could enter into it!

[Placatingly—seeing he is really angry]

Why, I was only picking out a type I thought would be good for you, Charlie—and for your work.