Part 1 (2/2)
”But then you lose the insurance,” she argued with feminine inconsistency.
”Of course,” he admitted, ”just as you lose your savings when you spend them.”
”Oh, but you can get at your savings easier, and it's easier to start again, if you happen to use them,” she insisted.
”The very reason why life insurance is better for us,” he said. ”I want to make sure of something for you that we're certain not to touch while I live.”
But she took the unreasonable view of insurance that some young women do take, and refused to be convinced.
”If I should die first,” she said, with a little shudder at the very thought of death for either of them, ”all the money you'd paid the company would be wasted.”
”Not necessarily,” he returned. ”There might be-”
”Hus.h.!.+” she interrupted, blus.h.i.+ng so prettily that he went over and kissed her. Then he dropped the subject temporarily, which was the wisest thing he could have done. She had the feminine objection to paying out money for which she got no immediate return, but she wanted to please her husband. She was capricious, imperious at times and then meekly submissive-a spoiled child who surrendered to the emotion of the moment, but whose very inconsistencies were captivating. So when she decided that victory was hers, she also decided to be generous: to please him she would make a concession.
”I've changed my mind about insurance,” she told him a few days later.
As a matter of fact, she had changed her mind, but not her opinions: she was not convinced, but she would please him by accepting his plan-with a slight modification.
”I knew you would see the wisdom of it!” he exclaimed joyously.
”How much insurance did you plan to get?” she asked, with a pretty a.s.sumption of business ways.
”Ten thousand dollars,” he replied.
”Well, we'll divide it,” she said, ”and each get five thousand dollars.”
”You mean that you'll be insured, too?” he asked doubtfully.
”Of course. Isn't my life worth as much as yours?”
”More! a thousand times more!” he cried, ”but-but-”
Her eyes showed her indignation, and he stopped short.
”You don't want me to be insured!” she exclaimed hotly. ”You don't think I'm worth it!”
”Why, dearest,” he protested, ”you're worth all the insurance of all the people in the world, but it isn't necessary in your case. It's my earning capacity that-”
Unfortunate suggestion! There was an inference that she considered uncomplimentary.
”Haven't I any earning capacity?” she demanded. ”Don't I earn every cent I get? Isn't the home as important as the office?”
”Surely, surely, darling, but-”
”Doesn't a good wife earn half of the income that she shares?” she persisted.
”More than half, sweetheart.”
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