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"Ex-Mrs. Joe. On her way back to Maine, I guess. She was at the wedding. They both were, the ex-Mrs. Joes." "Two of them? And you survived?" "Yep," Joe said. "Marriage . . . " Isabelle said sadly. "The marriages weren't bad," Joe said, "just not enough. The kids are grown up, anyway, one of mine the one that just got married and one of Ingrid's, Maxie. He lives in Vermont." "What does he do?"
His very children, who should now be, as he told himself complainingly, his greatest comfort, had degenerated from two sturdy, well-behaved little boys and a charming baby girl into three unruly, fretful imps, setting him at defiance, and terrorizing their two attendants, who, though carefully chosen by their Aunt Maud, did not seem to manage them as well as the old nurse who had been an ally of the ex-Mrs.
On three separate occasions before I joined his service he had jumped off the dock, to scramble back to shore again later by means of the Divorce Court lifebelt. Scattered here and there about the country there were three ex-Mrs. Jopps, drawing their monthly envelope, and now, it seemed, he contemplated the addition of a fourth to the platoon. I was not surprised, I say, at this resolve of his.
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