Dick flushed angrily. “Well, I’ll be damned if I think you’ve said one definite tangible thing--one thing a man can tie to.” “I didn’t mean to. Cecily’s troubles are quite mental--quite intangible--partly the result of an education which is totally out of accord with the times. It leaves women too sensitive for these days. Fliss’s High School was better for her.” “So you think I can’t appreciate my wife.” “There are precious few people who can appreciate Cecily.” “And what do you advise me to do about it?” “Why, I don’t know that there’s much to be done. You might try to please her in little things; give up the things that seem silly to her--dancing with a lot of silly idiots----” Dick let his fists drop on his desk with a kind of angry decision. “That’s what it gets down to, after all, isn’t it? Because Cecily doesn’t care for a certain kind of thing I am to give it up absolutely; without any assurance that I’ll get anywhere if I do. And what happens to me? You say I can’t play up to Cecily anyway. Am I to sit at home and twirl my thumbs and be sighed over?” “You’re becoming absurd.” “I’m not absurd. I’m working hard. You know I’m working hard and I’ve got to have a little fun. I’m going to be old in five years. I’ve only a few years of even the end of youth left. Isn’t the absurd thing that Cecily and I can’t enjoy things together? But I catch myself wondering all the time if she isn’t disapproving, if she doesn’t think I’m coarse. I get so tired of playing up to her instead of being easy and natural.” “And the coarse streak in you aches for a bit of ribaldry.” Dick smiled sheepishly. “Perhaps.” The twilight had fallen now. Matthew, pacing by the window again, looked down on the streets, dark and soft through a sudden fall of snow. He turned and laid his hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Well, anyway, life’s a queer mess,” he said. Dick looked at him curiously, somewhat abashed at this personal, tangled conversation. “We’re a pair of nuts,” he said, “and I’ll be late to dinner, and there’s a new cook.” They took their hats. “They’re still talking of you for the Senate, Matthew.” “It’s rot. I’ve never had a political office outside of Carrington.” “Lots of people like that idea, and of course the reason the old birds who’ve been in at the game have their eye on you is because you’ve got a strangle hold on so many votes. You’re a greater hero around here than Pershing since all that draft board and home guard stuff.” “Heavy military service, that was.” “Heavy military acquaintance. General acquaintance and a clean name. They’ll get you yet.” “We’ll see,” answered Matthew. “Maybe some day I would like to have an inside glimpse of Washington, but not for a while yet, even if I could get in, which is very unlikely. About that man Martin at the Everett mine----”