An hour later she stretched out a bare arm and tickled my ear and said: "Would you consider marrying me?" "It wouldn't last six months." "Well, for God's sake," she said, "suppose it didn't. Wouldn't it be worth it? What do you expect from life — full coverage against all possible risks?" "I'm forty-two years old. I'm spoiled by independence. You're spoiled a little—not too much—by money." "I'm thirty-six. It's no disgrace to have money and no disgrace to marry it. Most of those who have it don't deserve it and don't know how to behave with it. But it won't be long. We'll have another war and at the end of that nobody will have any money—except the crooks and the chiselers. We'll all be taxed to nothing, the rest of us." I stroked her hair and wound some of it around my finger. "You may be right." "We could fly to Paris and have a wonderful time." She raised herself on an elbow and looked down at me. I could see the shine of her eyes but I couldn't read her expression. "Do you have something against marriage?" "For two people in a hundred it's wonderful. The rest just work at it. After twenty years all the guy has left is a work bench in the garage. American girls are terrific. American wives take in too damn much territory. Besides—" "I want some champagne." "Besides," I said, "it would be just an incident to you. The first divorce is the only tough one. After that its merely a problem in economics. No problem to you. Ten years from now you might pass me on the street and wonder where the hell you had seen me before. If you noticed me at all." "You self-sufficient, self-satisfied, self-confident, untouchable bastard. I want some champagne." "This way you will remember me." 'conceited too. A mass of conceit. Slightly bruised at the moment. You think I'll remember you? No matter how many men I marry or sleep with, you think I'll remember you? Why should I?" "Sorry. I overstated my case. I'll get you some champagne." "Aren't we sweet and reasonable?" she said sarcastically. "I'm a rich woman, darling, and I shall be infinitely richer. I could buy you the world if it were worth buying. What have you now? An empty house to come home to, with not even a dog or cat, a small stuffy office to sit in and wait. Even if I divorced you I'd never let you go back to that." "How would you stop me? I'm no Terry Lennox." "Please. Don't let's talk about him. Nor about that golden icicle, the Wade woman. Nor ab............