“That’s ridiculous.”

“What, the tape? It would save the wear and tear on my vocal cords. Now listen, Tony—” I put my elbows on the table, and then removed them; I was certainly not going to imitate his vulgar habits. “Your attitude is a perfect illustration of the reason why I don’t intend to marry. I state a point of view, and you attack it. You don’t listen, you don’t try to understand, you just say—”

Tony said it.

“Obscenities will get you nowhere,” I said. “My feelings are a fact, not a personal delusion. They are valid for me. What business have you got trying to tell me how I ought to feel? You think you want an intellectual wife, who can discuss your work with you. But it wouldn’t last. After awhile you’d start expecting apple pie instead of articles, and then you’d want me to quit work, and if I got promoted and you didn’t, you would sulk, and then if we had a baby you wouldn’t get up in the middle of the night and change its dirty diapers—”

I stopped, not because I had finished my monologue, but because Tony wasn’t listening. His elbows were on the table, his face was hidden in his hands, and he was laughing so hard that the table shook.

Since he wasn’t looking, I permitted myself a sour smile. So maybe it did sound funny. But the basic premise was sound. I knocked one of Tony’s elbows out from under him so that his chin splashed into his coffee cup, and that ended that discussion.

But it wasn’t the end of the argument. I could tell by the speculative gleam in Tony’s eye that for the first time he was really thinking about the problem. It was amusing to watch him ponder my hang-up, as he called it, as methodically as he would consider an abstract academic question. At least it was amusing until he came out with his conclusions.

We were at Tony’s apartment. He had built a fire in the fireplace and had carefully seated himself in a chair across from the couch where I was sitting. He hadn’t touched me all evening, which was enough of a change to make me wary. He sat there for a long time staring at me, and finally he said,

“I’ve figured it out.”

“Oh, have you?”

“Yes. What you need is to be dominated.”

“Is that right,” I said.

“That tough exterior is a defense,” Tony explained. “Underneath, you are looking for a stronger shoulder to lean on. But since you are a superior female, you need to be convinced that the male is even more superior.”

“All right,” I said, between my teeth. “You may be stronger than I am, you ape, but just try those gorilla tactics on me and you’ll get something you—”

“No, no, I’m not talking about anything as crude as physical domination. I intend to convince you of my intellectual superiority.”

“Ha, ha,” I said.