Certainly there was a softness in Mr. Marrapit's tones as he made answer.
“It has, Mrs. Major,” he said, “it has. Into my establishment you have brought an air of peace that had for some time been lacking. Prior to your arrival, I was often worried by household cares that should not fall upon a man.”
Earnestly Mrs. Major replied: “Oh, I saw that. I strove to lift them.”
“You have lifted them. You have attended not only my cats but my kitchen. I am now able often to enjoy such evenings as these. This peace around us illustrates the tranquillity you have brought—”
The tranquillity was at that moment disastrously shattered. A bed of shrubbery lay within a few feet of where they sat. What had appeared to be a gnarled stump in its midst now quivered, broadened, fell into a line with the straightening back of Mr. Fletcher.
Mr. Marrapit was startled and annoyed. “What are you doing there, sir?”
“Snailin',” said Mr. Fletcher gloomily; exhibited his snail.
“Snail elsewhere. Do not snail where I am.”
“I snails where there's snails.”
“Cease snailing. You must have been there hours.”