"
"Nor I," cried Chatterton, and the chorus answered, "Nor I."
"I shall never marry," continued Bennett.
"Never," cried Chatterton, who beat a tattoo on the piano with his heel
to accompany the chorus of assent.
"But--I add but--in this case my opinion is that Rantoul has found a
pure diamond."
"True!"
"In the first place, she knows nothing at all about art, which is an
enormous advantage."
"Bravo!"
"In the second place, she knows nothing about anything else, which is
better still."
"Cynic! You hate clever women," cried Jacobus.
"There's a reason."
"All the same, Bennett's right. The wife of an artist should be a
creature of impulses and not ideas."
"True."
"In the third place," continued Bennett, "she believes Rantoul is a
demigod. Everything he will do will be the most wonderful thing in the
world, and to have a little person you are madly in love with think that
is enormous."
"All of which is not very complimentary to the bride," said Herkimer.
"Find me one like her," cried Bennett.
"Ditto," said Chatterton and Jacobus with enthusiasm.
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