He stared in front of him, whistling softly. "Life's queer," he uttered abruptly; "marriage seems so gay at the beginning, and then--all these infernal complications. There's always things nibbling at one; they never seem to stop. When you've weathered one squall another gets up on top of the first...." "There must be a great deal of give-and-take in marriage," began Mrs. Amber. "I'm as old as both of you put together, and I assure you that everyone has to make sacrifices, and try to do their duty cheerfully, and welcome the children whom God sends them." A little derision curled Osborn's lips. "I'm afraid these mere platitudes are no solid help." Mrs. Amber murmured protestingly, but, not knowing what a platitude was, felt she could not follow up the subject. She rose and picked up her coat from a chair back, and wrapped herself up to face the night. "Tell Marie you're pleased," she coaxed. "But she knows I'm not," said Osborn gloomily, "and neither will she be. One child on our income is enough. It would be different if we had plenty of money, but we haven't. Why, a family in this flat! This flat with two bedrooms! Imagine it! When God sends these blessings, as you infer He does, He should build rooms for 'em. _I_ can't." "Oh, don't!" Mrs. Amber implored, "don't! I'm not superstitious, but--" she looked around her and shuddered--"but you ought not to say such things. It isn't right. People must make sacrifices." "Don't say it all over again." She went with her waddling gait, agitatedly, to the door. "Good night," she said. "Be very, very kind to Marie, won't you?" "I don't need anyone to tell me how to treat my own wife," he replied stiffly. "Oh, Osborn, don't be offended." "I'm not offended," he said shortly. "Good night, and thanks for staying in, and lighting the fire and all that." He did not remain to watch her slow progress down the stone stairs, but closed the door and went back to the fire. He pulled out his pipe, filled and lighted it. There descended upon him that feeling of hopeless exasperation which many a young man has felt in many such a situation. When one married did one's liabilities never cease? Did they never even remain stationary, allowing a man to settle his course and keep to it, in spite of the boredom involved? Would life be always just a constant ringing of the changes on paying the rent, paying the instalment on the furniture, paying the doctor, paying the nurse, paying to go for one anxious week to Littlehampton? Wasn't there some alternative? All a man appeared able to do was to escape for furtive minutes from his chains, to steal furtive shillings from his obligations and spend them otherwise. A lot of men seemed to keep sane under the most unfavourable conditions. When Osborn had sucked his pipe to the very last draw, he got up with a heavy sigh, stretched himself, took the coal off the fire to effect the minute saving, and went to undress. He wondered whether Marie really was still awake.