No More Learning

(With mock sternness. ) I object awf'ly. How did you know that
it was yours to keep?

Mrs. G. I guessed, Phil.

Capt. G. (Rapturously. ) Lit-tle Featherweight!

Mrs. G. I won' t be called those sporting pet names, bad boy.

Capt. G.
You'll be called anything I choose. Has it ever occurred to
you, Madam, that you are my Wife?

Mrs. G. It has. I haven't ceased wondering at it yet.

Capt. G. Nor I. It seems so strange; and yet, somehow, it doesn't.
(Confidently. ) You see, it could have been no one else.

Mrs. G. (Softly. ) No.