This brought him up rather short.  “I should never take part myself,” he presently stated, “unless it were immediate personal vengeance.”

“Few brothers or husbands would blame you,” I returned.  “It would be hard to wait for the law.  But let no community which treats it as a public spectacle presume to call itself civilized.”

He gave a perplexed smile, shaking his head over it.  “Sometimes I think civilization costs—­”

“Civilization costs all you’ve got!” I cried.

“More than I’ve got!” he declared.  “I’m mortal tired of civilization.”

“Ah, yes!  What male creature is not?  And neither of us will live quite long enough to see the smash-up of our own.”

“Aren’t you sometimes inconsistent?” he inquired, laughing.

“I hope so,” I returned.  “Consistency is a form of death.  The dead are the only perfectly consistent people.”

“And sometimes you sound like a Socialist,” he pursued, still laughing.

“Never!” I shouted.  “Don’t class me with those untrained puppies of thought.  And you’ll generally observe,” I added, “that the more nobly a Socialist vaporizes about the rights of humanity, the more wives and children he has abandoned penniless along the trail of his life.”

He was livelier than ever at this.  “What date have you fixed for the smash-up of our present civilization?”

“Why fix dates?  Is it not diversion enough to watch, and step handsomely through one’s own part, with always a good sleeve to laugh in?”

Pensiveness returned upon him.  “I shall be able to step through my own part, I think.”  He paused, and I was wondering secretly, “Does that include the wedding?” when he continued:  “What’s there to laugh at?”

“Why, our imperishable selves!  For instance:  we swear by universal suffrage.  Well, sows’ ears are an invaluable thing in their place, on the head of the animal; but send them to make your laws, and what happens?  Bribery, naturally.  The silk purse buys the sow’s ear.  We swear by Christianity, but dishonesty is our present religion.  That little phrase ‘In God We Trust’ is about as true as the silver dollar it’s stamped on—­ worth some thirty-nine cents.  We get awfully serious about whether or no good can come of evil, when every sky-scraping thief of finance is helping hospitals with one hand while the other’s in my pocket; and good and evil attend each other, lead to each other, are such Siamese twins that if separated they would both die.  We make phrases about peace, pity, and brotherhood, while every nation stands prepared for shipwreck and for the sinking plank to which two are clinging and the stronger pushes the weaker into the flood and thus floats safe.  Why, the old apple of wisdom, which Adam and Eve swallowed and thus lost their innocence, was a gentle nursery drug compared with the new apple of competition, which, as soon as chewed, instantly transforms the heart into a second brain.  But why worry, when nothing