Would Eleanor ever be able to turn it so that they talked that way?"

"That's a fascinating speculation," he said. "I wish I could persuade
her some time to indulge the wild eccentricity of trying it out."

"Well, why?" she demanded.

"Shall I try to say something witty," he asked, "or do you want it, as
near as may be, absolutely straight?"

"Let's indulge," she said, "in the wild, eccentricity of talking
straight."

The cigarettes came around just then, and he lighted one rather
deliberately, at one of the candles, before he answered.

"I am under the impression," he said, "that husbands and wives can talk
exactly as well as any other two people. Exactly as well, and no better.
The necessary conditions for real conversation are a real interest in
and knowledge of a common subject; ability on the part of both to
contribute something to that subject. Well, if a husband and wife can
meet those terms, they can talk. But the joker is, as our legislative
friend over there would say," (he nodded down the table toward a young
millionaire of altruistic principles, who had got elected to the state
assembly) "the joker is that a man and a woman who aren't married, and
who are moderately attracted to each other, can talk, or seem to talk,
without meeting those conditions."

"Seem to talk?" she questioned.